Rising Depths
by Ennui-EAF
Summary: HPGW, RWHG. Harry's seventh year at Hogwarts becomes darker and draws closer to its inevitable conclusion. The Dark Lord and love denied battle for their place in his life.
1. Prologue

**To my dear readers!  Here is the tantalizing beginning of the third tale in my twisted little world of Harry Potter.  This is the tale of Harry and Ginny, with perhaps some Ron and Hermione thrown in for extra good measure.  

This story may be a bit more angsty than the previous two…  although we shall see.  I'm always open to constructive criticism.  *grinning significantly at that little 'review' button*

ALSO – I have chosen to rate this fic "R" as there will most likely be violence and at least the suggesting/implication of 'adult' relationships.  Better safe than sorry, right?

And without any more rambling – _Rising Depths_

Prologue – Setting the Scene 

Harry Potter glared at the figure in front of him.  He hissed the words of the cutting curse, and watched with deep satisfaction as a deep gash opened straight down the center of his opponent's body.  

"_Finite_," he finally said, lowering his palms.  "_Reparo_."  The dummy had slumped against the wall on the other side of the room and now sprang back onto its stand, as good as new.  

Sighing deeply, Harry walked over to the window, shoving a hand through his sweaty hair.  He got a whiff of his own sweat, and grimaced.  He needed a shower.  He propped a shoulder against the window frame and gazed down at the spring landscape.  

There were only a few more weeks of school, he thought.  A precious few weeks left for him to practice and hone his skills.  He glanced at the dummy again.  He couldn't use magic at the Dursley's until his seventeenth birthday, and that would mean going far too long while being vulnerable.  

Harry snorted.  Voldemort wouldn't come looking for him at the Dursley's, he was fairly sure.  For one, there were all those wards and things around it, that blood magic Dumbledore had told him about a year ago.  Plus, Voldemort was a bit of a show-off, he'd decided.  He liked drama, making a statement, scaring or hurting as many people as possible.  Frankly, Harry's money was on the two of them going at it either in Hogsmead or here at Hogwarts.  

He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking.  He couldn't keep practicing his magic over the summer, at least, not for most of it.  The corners of his mouth curled up as he contemplated what he could do to Dudley _after_ July 31st.  In the meantime, he would have to find some other way to prepare.  Something he could read, or maybe push-ups or something.  He'd have to think about it some more.

He sighed again, and glanced around the blossoming grounds outside.  And that was why he was in the Room of Requirement on this gorgeous spring day, while all his friends were out lying by the lake.  He spotted Ron's tall, lanky figure chasing Seamus about the grass, and had to grin.  At least they were having fun.  Behind them, Hermione was sitting, probably scolding the two of them all the while grinning like an idiot.  And next to her…

Ginny.  Harry's eyes lingered on the fiery haired girl.  She was a big, big reason why he'd recently decided his life truly sucked.  Of all the people Voldemort would most like to use against him, to destroy and ruin, a lover would be number one.  And so here he was, sixteen going on seventeen, scrupulously avoiding all dates and any possible hint of a relationship.  His lips twisted.  

And then he took a deep breath and let it out again.  He glanced at his watch, and swore silently.  He had a detention with McGonnagal in fifteen minutes, and she would kill him if he walked in smelling the way he did.  Not to mention, she'd probably demand to know how he got that way.  Grabbing his bag, he broke in to a spring as he left the Room, already calculating just how fast he could run.

**********

Ginny Weasley sat outside and snickered as Ron hollered in annoyance as yet again, he fell victim to Seamus and Dean's 'practice'.  They claimed to be working on their homework, yet a surprising number of charms seemed to be finding their way toward Ron.  Her brother had been muttering and getting redder and redder until it seemed he'd finally snapped.

"Oi!  Quit, you gits, or I'll string your boxers up top Gryffindor Tower!" he finally bellowed when a Hair-Lengthening charm hit him upside the head.  Hermione was giggling like an idiot as she attempted to reverse this latest mishap, but her wand was wobbling a little alarmingly.  

Ginny just laughed as she watched the two of them.  Lordy, were there ever two people more meant for each other than Hermione and Ron?  She was the only one who could both wind him up and calm him down, and he was the only one who knew how to make her laugh and cry.  She watched Ron submit to Hermione's slightly calmer spell-work, and sighed a little.  Frankly, she wouldn't be surprised if he'd let the boys get away with their little pranks because it had made Hermione laugh.

Glancing around, she spotted her best friend Cara under a tree a little ways away.  She was looking down at the boy who currently was lying with his head in her lap, and was smiling about something.  Ginny watched those two, feeling a wistful emotion steal through her.  Cara had gotten her man and she was holding onto him with both hands.  She and Draco had been through a lot together; Cara had almost died.  And yet now Draco Malfoy, the school's scariest student and one that first years still cowered in fear from as he strode down the hall, was lying outside in the shade on a warm spring day, his head in his girlfriend's lap.

Looking around her, Ginny saw that a lot of people were taking advantage of the warm weather to partner up.  Flirting was in the air as boys and girls laughed and teased and chased each other about the wide lawns.

She shook her head and reached for her bookbag.  There was only one boy she wanted to do that with, and he was still disappearing for long stretches and refusing to tell them why.  She had her suspicions, of course, but so far, she hadn't been able to pry anything out of him.  

She flipped open the thick book she'd checked out of the library and started to read.  Harry was determined to protect them all from something, that much she'd gotten straight.  She and Hermione had put their heads together and come up with that, and more.  But what they were both unsure of was what he wasn't telling them.  There was something, something he was keeping very close to himself, that Harry was refusing to share.  And that something was driving him to spend time on his own, always returning with a grim look in his eyes that would take an hour for Ron to drive away with cheerful, aimless chatter.  

She flipped the page and kept reading.  But she was a Weasley, and damn it all, that boy wasn't going to get away that easily.  She'd help him, whether he wanted it or not.  Ginny settled more comfortably in the grass.  She just had to figure out how.

**********


	2. Welcome Back

Met19 – I'm glad you said something, I hadn't realized how confusing my prologue might have seemed.  It was set at the end of 6th year, before 7th.  Hence Harry still has a summer with the Dursleys and his 17th birthday to look forward to.

MetroDweller – You're so kind!  blowing kisses

'A Harry and Ginny Dreamer', NOXlumos, anna – I'm glad you're enjoying!  Please, keep reading AND reviewing. 

Chapter 1

Severus Snape scowled harshly at his own reflection.  "It's a bloody Welcome Feast, not a Death Eater meeting," he muttered to himself.  "What am I, a Gryffindor?"

"Hey, I resent that," a female voice laughed at him from the next room. 

He snorted and resisted the urge to mumble something else under his breath.  Sonora had somehow developed far too sharp ears for him to sneak a childishly satisfying comeback without her knowing.  Instead he drew his black robes about him and swept out of the bathroom and into their bedroom.

His woman smiled up at him from where she leaned against the bed, slipping the last fastener through its loop on her plain black professorial robes.  "Come, come, Severus," she chided.  "You act like you're going to your funeral.  They're just students."

He glared at her.  "Students who hate me and love you, and will want to turn me into one of my own potions ingredients," he muttered.  The light from the enchanted torches on the wall flashed through the stone on her hand as she lifted her arms to secure her long rope of dark hair.  Severus caught himself watching her with a great sense of satisfaction. 

All his protests and grumblings to the side, he had never felt as blindingly, well, _happy_ as he had the day he'd put that ring on her finger.  The Snape family ring was a surprisingly delicate piece, a swirl of opals and emeralds wrapped in gold that suited her like nothing else he could have thought of. 

It was quite satisfying, he thought, this having her completely.  No more dodging around the students, no more playing down his claim on her for proprieties sake.  No, Sonora was truly _his_ now. 

His lips quirked at that thought, and he couldn't resist looking down at his own hand.  And if she'd given herself to him so freely, she'd just as ferociously claimed him as belonging to her.  His smile widened.  What a night that had been…

"Severus, darling?" her voice intruded sweetly.  "If you're quite done fantasizing, we _do_ have a feast to go to."

Severus looked down his nose at his wife, something that was very easy to do, considering she stood a full foot shorter than he.  "I believe it was I who was waiting on you," he pointed out before offering her his arm.  "Now that you are finally ready…" he baited.

Sonora pursed her lips at him.  "Oh, and who was the one who has been cowering in the bathroom, talking to the mirror?" she asked, before grinning and going up on her toes to press a sweetly tender kiss to his lips.  He savored it a moment before gently easing her to stand on her own, checking to make sure she had her cane. 

"Well, let's get this over with," he said with a sigh.  "I'm sure Dumbledore's going to do his level best to make tonight completely dreadful."

Sonora laughed as they started out through the Potions classroom.  "Now, now," she said, clearly laughing at him and even more clearly enjoying it.  "He's just a kind, loving old man."  She laughed again as Severus snorted.  Bloody hell, this was going to be a near unbearable evening.

Harry Potter stretched his legs under the table and surveyed the Great Hall with satisfaction.  Bloody hell, it was good to be back.  No matter what happened during the school year, no matter how bad it got, all it ever took was a summer of magic-free time with the Dursleys to make him appreciate being a wizard. 

He grinned to himself as Ron muttered something about there being a whole hell of a lot more first year students than when _they_ were sorted, and couldn't McGonagall bloody well hurry up, some people were hungry.  Of course, the summer had gotten a whole lot more interesting once he'd turned seventeen.  His birthday had been heralded by an onslaught of owls, including one lovely package of items from Fred and George Weasley.  They'd informed him that as their now-of-legal-age silent partner, it was his job to test their new inventions and report back on what happened.  They didn't _think_ any were permanent, they'd added, but he might want to try the red ones on that fat lump of a cousin first, just to be safe. 

Dudley had spent the rest of the summer afraid to eat anything, and had consequently dropped quite a bit of weight.  That hadn't stopped him from turning several shades of magenta, sprouting wings on the back of his head, growing a five-foot nose and talking in Ancient Babylonian for about a week.  Aunt Petunia had been hysterical for weeks, Uncle Vernon had blustered and threatened and also lost several pounds.  It had been the best summer yet. 

Finally, he'd gotten bored at the petty revenge he'd been extracting from his blood relatives, and informed them with about a week to go that he was stopping the pranks and wouldn't be bothering them again as long as they let him alone.  They'd done so with a vengeance, not even looking at him in the hall on the way to the bathroom.

The Sorting Hat was up to 'P' now, and Hermione was hissing at Ron to be quiet and not ruin his first day as Head Boy.  Frankly, Harry hadn't been surprised that his two best friends had gotten the top honors.  Hermione had been a shoo-in, and Ron, well, there was no one better in the school to bring people together and lead than Ron.  His friend had argued with him when he'd said that, claiming that Harry should have gotten the badge, but Harry'd set him straight.  His job was to fight, not to lead. 

Tuttle, Amanda, had just been sorted into Ravenclaw, and Harry glanced around, curious to see if anything had changed over the summer.  Malfoy was still sprawled elegantly alone at his end of the Slytherin Table, watching the proceedings with cool, narrowed eyes.  His housemates looked darker and grimmer this year, if possible.  He felt a moment's pity for the eleven-year olds going into that house.  It couldn't be easy. 

Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, he was glad to see, didn't seem to be missing any faces.  No students had died this summer, something he'd been mildly amazed about.  Then again, it hadn't completely surprised him.  He had the feeling that Voldemort was waiting, waiting for him. 

And here at Gryffindor…  he looked fondly about his housemates.  The Creevy brothers, Seamus and Dean, Lavender and Pavarati, Neville.  All those familiar faces, smiling and laughing and happy to be back.  Ron and Hermione, sitting across from each other and arguing in whispers yet again, and Ginny and Cara smirking about something behind their hands.  It all felt good.

He glanced up at the teachers' table and studied the faces there.  Bill was back as Defense teacher, a minor miracle.  Hagrid was solid and sprawled along one end of the table.  Flitwick and Sprout were whispering, and down the other end of the table, Snape and Professor Stone were watching the sorting. 

Harry's eyes caught a glimpse of something different there, however, and his eyes narrowed.  Was that…  for a split second, it was like a sharp, cold breeze rushing through his mind, and then his eyes widened.  Holy hell, the old bastard had done it. 

Harry nudged Ron with his elbow, interrupting the fight.  "Oi," Ron muttered at him, annoyed.  "You mind?"

"Look at Snape," he said softly back, looking at Hermione and nodding toward the table.  "Do you see it?"

Ron squinted toward the head table.  "See what?  Bloody hell, mate, you're starting to get annoying with this knowing everything bit," his best friend grumbled. 

Hermione had her brows knit together as she tried to decipher Harry's meaning.  "What are you talking about, Harry, I don't see anything."

He grinned and leaned over to Ginny and Cara.  "Do you guys see it?" he asked, careful to keep his voice casual and light, and not to touch at all.  He'd learned a few things this summer about how to keep his act solid and unbreakable.  "Look at Snape."

Neville heard as well, and now there was a whole section of the Gryffindor table peering curiously at the Potions Master.  Who, in turn, realized he was being stared at and glared back at them. 

"I don't see…" Ginny started, frowning.  Just then, Professor Stone realized what was going on from her spot next to Snape, and grinned.  A big, highly amused grin.  She said something to Snape that made him scowl bigger and blacker than ever, and then lifted her hand and waved it at them.  Her left hand.  And it was backward.

Hermione gasped, as did Ginny and Cara.  "Oh my goodness," his friend whispered before looking at Harry and beaming.  "He _didn't_." 

Harry smirked.  "I think we're about to hear a speech from Dumbledore that will tell us he most definitely did."

Ginny giggled.  "Oh, Snape's going to hate that," she said, a little gleefully.  The Potion Master might not be as bad as he had been in the past, but he was still no one's favorite teacher.  Well, no one but perhaps Draco's, and that would be a close tie with Professor Stone.

Ron was looking blank, Neville perplexed, and other people were starting to whisper.  "I don't get it," Neville said.  "What are you guys talking about?"

Ginny laughed and slung an arm around Neville sitting next to her.  "Neville, old buddy old pal, you're a boy and consequently of inferior observational powers," she informed him.  Harry felt the slow twist of his stomach, and had to pause a second to straighten it.  He'd spent too much time and effort on this over the summer to fail now that he was back at Hogwarts.  Hermione and Cara smirked while Ron gave his classic sputter of insulted objection.

"Harry's the one who pointed out whatever it is to you," Ron said, sounding defensive for all the guys listening. 

Ginny smirked.  "Harry's special," she said.  Harry sat back and watched as the two siblings disintegrated into a good-hearted spat over boys-vs.-girls, all the while turning the new development over in his mind.  It was a risky thing, what Snape had done.  Frankly, Harry didn't understand how he could do it, not if he really cared.  Of course, Professor Stone really couldn't get much higher on Voldemort's hit list, probably right there in the top ten after the events of two years ago, perhaps Snape thought he couldn't make things any worse than they were already.

Meanwhile, the sorting had finished and Professor McGonagall had taken the hat away.  Dumbledore was now standing up to make his speech.

"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts," the Headmaster said, gazing around with a smile.  Harry watched him, remembering despite himself how awed he'd been by the old man his first year.  He'd thought Dumbledore knew everything.  "I will be brief, since I suspect many of you are more than eager to begin the real business of the evening."  Those aged blue eyes twinkled.  "First, I would like to welcome back for another year Professor Weasley, who will serve as our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher yet again."  Harry joined his housemates, and indeed, most of the school in whooping and hollering for Bill.  Frankly, they were all just pretty glad he hadn't died or something.  Their Defense teachers had a habit of dropping off the face of the earth.

"Second, I would like to congratulate our new Head Boy and Head Girl, both of whom hail from Gryffindor this year.  Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger."  Harry cheered louder than anyone as his friends stood, Ron the color of a brick and Hermione serene and smiling.

"Finally," Dumbledore announced once the two had been seated once more, Harry not able to resist nudging Ron in amusement.  "I have a very pleasant announcement."  Harry smirked and looked toward Snape, who looked like he wanted to slide off his chair and turn invisible.  Oh yes.  This could be good.

"I am most pleased to be able to welcome back our Potion Masters, after a very eventful summer," Dumbledore said.  Snape tried to melt more.  "This summer, it was my great privilege to be present at a most joyous occasion, a moment of deep emotion and heartfelt feeling."  Snape couldn't get any lower, Professor Stone had him by the arm.  "I speak, of course, of the wedding of our dear Professor Snape and Professor Stone, who will now be known by her husbands name.  I'm sure the school would like to join me in wishing the happy couple well."

There was dead silence in the hall as every single student jaw hit the table and every eye was fixed incredulously on Snape.  Harry wanted to laugh and had to struggle not to as he caught stray thoughts flying about the room.

Then Draco Malfoy rose gracefully to his feet and standing alone, began to applaud.  Harry shoved to his own feet and joined him, fairly sure it was something worth applauding.  If only to see Snape glare. 

In a wave, then, the rest of the students began to stand and clap as well and a roar of approval and cheers broke over the hall.  Professor Stone, rather, Professor Snape now, laughed in delight, and to the students' deep glee, leaned over and managed to plant a smacking kiss square on the Potion Master's glaring countenance.  Catcalls and whistles joined the uproar, only to get exponentially louder when Snape scowled and retaliated with a heated kiss of his own.

It was nearly ten minutes before Dumbledore was able to get the students settled and seated again, and say those magic words that brought on the feast, 'Nimble Mimble Mumbus'.  The tables nearly groaned at the sudden onslaught of food and hands began to shoot forward.

Harry sat back and watched, waiting to fill his plate.  He smiled.  Ah yes.  It was good to be back.


	3. Studies of the Same

Shahrezad1 - pulling a daffidil out of a chocolate chip cookie  Err, dear, next time keep the two separate, will you?  They'll taste/smell better…  Lol.  Glad you like my start!  Here's the next part…  let's see what kind of trouble Harry's been into, shall we?

MetroDweller – You know boys, always thinking they're actually thinking.  If it weren't for us females, nothing would get done around here.  Hee hee…  (sorry, any gentlemen reading, just a little lighthearted fun at your expense).  Anywhoo.  Don't get used to the lighthearted and sweet stuff.  I got darker plans, starting now…

Mary-v – So glad you're reading and reviewing!  Please continue to do both, and prop up my fragile ego.  smiles

Chapter 2 – Studies of the Same 

Ginny huffed as she clomped slowly up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower.  Back in classes two bloody days, and already McGonagall had assigned a four-foot scroll on the proper technique and application of cat-to-furniture transfiguration.  Honestly, who would WANT to transfigure a cat into an ottoman?  I mean, the poor cat, she thought, breathing hard.  Damn, but there were a lot of stairs.

She finally got to the top and started down the hall to where the Fat Lady looked like she was knitting.  "Muffin crumbs," Ginny said, and the portrait swung open, the Fat Lady murmuring something about 'knit two, pearle one…'. 

Ginny dropped her bag with great relief on a nearby table and glanced around.  People were mostly out and about still, no one wanting to admit that it was time to work again instead of time to play.  Only a few odd students were scattered about, chatting or playing cards.  Cara was probably somewhere with Draco, and her other dormmates had been spotted playing a highly flirtatious game of tag with some sixth-year Ravenclaw boys out on the front lawn. 

By the fire, however, sat her brother and his fellow Head, Hermione, and Harry.  They were relaxed and chatting softly, Hermione looking like she was describing something to the two boys from their expression.  Ron looked mildly horrified, Harry amused. 

They apparently hadn't noticed Ginny come in, and so she took a moment to study the three, the most famous friends in Hogwarts.  There was her brother, Ron.  He'd grown this summer, even more than last year, and had to be well over six feet tall now.  Even better, in Ginny's opinion, he'd finally started to fill out that tall skinny frame.  She gave herself credit for making him practice quiddich with her all summer.  Ron gave a bark of pained laughter as Hermione said something, and she smiled.  Her brother was growing up into someone nearly as good looking as Bill, she thought.  And that was saying something.  Although Merlin help him if he ever got a fang earring, Mum would bloody well kill him. 

Her eyes drifted to Hermione, who was sitting with her feet curled under her as she told whatever her story was.  Hermione hadn't changed much over the summer.  Still small and daintily built, still with that wildly crazy hair and over-developed sense of responsibility, still with that deep loyalty to Ron and Harry.  No one had been surprised that Hermione had gotten Head Girl, frankly, they probably would have died of shock if she hadn't.  On the train, Hermione had let slip that she'd been doing some reading about repelling mid-level curses, and didn't Harry and Ron think they should do a little practice on their own before it came up in class?  Ron had looked at her and laughed, while Harry had grinned and told her that she never changed. 

And then there was Harry.  Ginny slowly settled down into a seat as her eyes fixed on the dark-haired boy's profile.  He'd grown this summer, too.  Up and out.  He wasn't as tall as Ron, of course, but heavens, he was taller.  Whatever he'd done this summer, it had to have included something physical, as well, because there was definitely more to him than there had been last year.  His face was sharper, eyes clearer and body more controlled.  Not that she would notice any of those things.

Unconsciously, Ginny sighed and forced her eyes away from the green-eyed object of her musings.  She pulled out her Charms book and set it in her lap, staring down into it blankly. 

Three days back, and Harry was already clearly going out of his way to avoid any contact with her.  Oh, sure, he smiled and joked and laughed, and carried on conversations, but he didn't so much as clap her on the shoulder in passing as he did Ron.  And that teasing that had been there at the beginning of last year…  he'd started ruffling her hair, dropping an arm around her shoulders, kicking her under the table.  Silly little things that had meant the world to her. 

And then stupid Bellatrix had happened and it had all stopped.  Harry had gotten serious and started going off on his own, and not even Ron had been able to get him to talk about it.  Supposedly there'd been a night spent in the Astronomy Tower with none other than Draco Malfoy, but even that Harry was closemouthed about.  And there had been no more casual hugs, no more thrills and hopes that he might feel something back. 

"Stupid git," she muttered under her breath as she flipped a page a little violently.  The kicker of it was, she was pretty sure he knew what he was doing.  There had been that day she and Cara had gotten out of the hospital wing last year, and they'd been talking about Draco…  some rather pointed things had been said, and she _knew_ Harry hadn't been blind to her meaning.  She _knew_ it.  And somehow, she found herself back on the outside of his life again, despite it all.

Briefly, Ginny wondered if she was really a closet masochist.  Who in their right mind kept pinning after a boy who'd One, never liked her, and Two, currently refused to come into physical contact with her?  Virginia Weasley, please stand up, she thought gloomily.

The problem with Harry Potter, she thought, was that he was a boy.  A pig-headed, far-too-sure-he-was-right, annoyingly dense boy.  Oh, she had a good idea why he'd started pulling away from them all, some stupid idea of protecting them.  She growled under her breath.  Ron had blown up that summer when yet another letter of Harry's had simply stated he was 'fine' and ignored Ron's rather pointed questions.  Her brother had ranted and raved about what a great bloody git of a friend Harry was, and that if he didn't pull his head out of his arse and realize they were all in this together, Ron was going to have to do it for them.  Lucky for Harry, he'd met them at Platform 9 ¾ and had been relaxed and smiling, much like the boy they all remembered before Sirius had died.  Ginny'd looked past that, however, and seen the way all his movements were smooth and controlled, how there was a barrier behind those grass-green eyes that hadn't existed before.  Harry'd figured out how to show only what he wanted, and she hated it.  Ron hadn't noticed, he'd just been too glad to have his mate back.  She wasn't even sure if Hermione had seen it yet, although she gave it a little time. 

She tossed her Charms book aside and instead pulled out her red notebook, the one Hermione had given her for her birthday.  She liked the muggle item, it was rather handy.  It had become her 'Harry' book.  She flipped the pages, scanning her notes.  When she hadn't been playing quiddich with Ron, she'd been reading.  Planning.

Harry might have decided he would stand alone this year, but Ginny had news for him.  NO ONE got rid of a Weasley.  Not even the Boy-Who-Lived.

Ginny had been studying them from her corner on the other side of the common room for the past few minutes.  She thought no one had seen her come in, but Harry'd known.  He always knew where she was, it was like having a built-in radar.  Sometimes it was damn irritating. 

Hermione finished telling her story about the patient who'd come in with his teeth superglued together and how her parents had tried just about everything to get them apart, and Ron was _still_ confused about the whole dentist thing.  And she was explaining to him yet again.  Harry watched them and grinned.  Frankly, he wondered just how long it would take Ron to crack and kiss Hermione senseless.  He and the rest of their dormmates had a bet going.  Dean said two months, Seamus had nine weeks, Neville by Christmas, and Harry'd got for the Easter Holidays.  He didn't have a lot of faith in Ron's confidence where Hermione was concerned, especially since the big git refused to acknowledge there was anything between them. 

Ginny would probably want in on the bet, he caught himself thinking before he gave a mental shake.  You worked on this, Potter, he told himself.  All damn summer long, and last year.  You worked on getting Ginny Weasley out of your head.  She's not for you.  No one is. 

Harry stretched his legs out, slumping lower in his chair and getting comfortable as the Head Boy and Girl began to bicker about whether it was possible to magically stick someone's teeth together and whether it should be tried on a Slytherin in the next week or two.  He grinned again.  God, they were funny. 

He dropped his gaze and stared at his feet, tuning the two of them out.  He'd made himself get up and run the last two mornings, reluctant to loose that exercise now that school had started.  Besides, it would keep him in shape for Quiddich.  McGonagall had already started dropping hints about wanting to keep the Cup on her desk another year, and they were all still waiting for the captains to be posted.  Frankly, he rather hoped it was Ron.  Harry had enough to deal with, what with classes, sneaking off to practice by himself, and soon quiddich.  Being captain would be more work on top of it. 

"Oi, Harry, don't you think a Sticking Charm, if you aimed it right?"  Ron interrupted his musings. 

Hermione rolled her eyes.  "For that last time, Ron, Sticking Charms only work on inanimate objects," she lectured.  "Honestly, have you been listening in class the last few years at all?"

Harry grinned as he tuned back in.  "I dunno, Mione, some of those Slytherins might just count as inanimate.  Crabbe, for example." 

Ron laughed with him as Hermione sputtered, reluctantly amused despite herself.  "That's just mean," she said weakly, lips twitching.  She glanced up and around, clearly looking for a new topic of conversation, and spotted Ginny over in her corner.  "Ginny!" she called.  "What are you doing over there?  Come on over and join us."

Harry didn't have to look as the redheaded girl got up and strolled over to know that time had slowed down until all there was left was her walking, one slow hip-rolling step at a time, over to sit across from him on the couch with Ron. 

"It was too far to come with my bookbag," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose.  Harry watched her covertly, not even looking, yet seeing her perfectly clearly in the corner of his eye.  "I swear, the professors are out to get us this year.  I have four feet due this week for McGonagall!  Already!"

Ron dropped an arm around his sister and looked uncharacteristically serious.  "Actually, Hermione and I had a prefects meeting yesterday with Dumbledore, and they told us that what with You-Know-Who getting so strong, this year was going to be rough.  Loads of homework for all, especially in Defense."

Ginny snorted.  "Right.  And Bill's just going to _hate_ giving us extra work," she said.  Harry had to admire her, she refused to get dragged down in all the tense energy that was in the air these days.  He wasn't able to do that.  It just made him work harder to be ready to beat it, if he could.  Harry flexed his right hand unconsciously.  He still needed to get that Blood-Boiling Curse stronger, faster, if he was going to be able to…

Ron was speaking again.  "I dunno, Gin, haven't you looked at the teachers lately?" he said, still uncharacteristically serious.  Come to think of it, all the Weasleys had a habit of finding the bright side of things.  It was himself and Hermione who were generally the serious ones of the group.  "They're tense.  Waiting for something to happen."

Hermione nodded, eyes dark.  "I've been getting the _Daily Prophet_ this summer," she said.  "According to it, the wizarding world's on the brink of panic, just waiting for the axe to fall.  And Fudge isn't really helping things, claiming he can't be distracted to speak to the press."

Harry stayed silent.  It would do him no good to make a comment about Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge.  He hated the man, had since he'd met him.  He hated him more after fifth year and the way the man had handed the school over to Umbridge.  He glanced at his hand, still able to see faint scars from that damned quill. 

He glanced up to see Ron regarding him seriously, if not a little anxiously.  "Oi, mate, you ok?" his friend asked.

He had to remember not to let himself get distracted like that, he thought as he pulled himself together.  Not get sucked down in his thoughts and miss what was going on around him.  "Constant vigilance," he finally said.  "Screw Fudge and the _Prophet_.  Voldemort's coming, and nothing anyone can do will stop him."  He felt his eyes darken, felt the magic surging inside him and tamped it down with an effort.  "Nothing to do but get ready and wait."

They were all looking at him now, and it made him rather uncomfortable.  Too reminiscent of all that Boy-Who-Lived crap from fourth year.  Ron and Hermione were staring with rather surprised looks, probably because last year he'd hardly opened his mouth on the subject.  He'd picked up that it wouldn't work this year, Ron had been blaring his thoughts so loudly at the train station, it had been impossible to miss.  So he would say his piece and then let them think what they would.

"I'm glad you're talking about it, Harry," Hermione said quietly.  "I was a little worried, considering how short your letters were this summer."

Ron snorted.  "If I got one more bloody 'I'm fine' note, I was going to come over and hex you myself," he mumbled, a gleam in his eyes.  Blue Weasley eyes, the same as his brothers.  Not like the brown ones currently studying his face. 

"Are you ever going to tell us about it, Harry?" the owner of those eyes said now, voice quiet.  "We know you're keeping something to yourself."  Harry felt himself start to go cold inside.  Stop, Ginny, he thought.  Before I have to make you. 

"And you're going off alone last year, are you going to tell us about that?" she kept going, apparently not getting his mental messages.  Off the three people sitting around him, the people who mattered most in his life, _she_ was the one he was afraid of.  Because whether she realized it or not, she was the one he worried could break him down and destroy him. 

"Gin," he cut in across her, interrupting.  "Drop it."  He looked her full in the eyes, those gorgeous brown eyes that were currently narrowed on his face and sent a wave of mental energy at her.  Just leave it alone, he silently begged.  Don't drag this down, not now, not yet.  He wanted at least a few moments of cheerful relaxation to keep him going this year.

But the owner of those eyes was too damn smart and nosy for her own good, and she glared at him.  "Drop it?  You want me to drop it?" she demanded.  "How about, hell no?"  She sat forward.  "Ron and Hermione are too damn worried about you to be a pest about it, but screw that.  You're a big boy, Potter, grow up and get over yourself."

Harry wanted to laugh.  She had no idea…  "Ginny, look, I'm sure when Harry's ready, he'll let us know what he's been thinking about…" Hermione tried to smooth over.

Harry interrupted her, this time.  "No, Mione," he said calmly, eyes dead center on Ginny's.  "I won't be.  Where I go, what I'm thinking, what I know, it doesn't concern you, any of you.  And I'll be damned if I'll drag you all into this more than you already are."  He could feel his control slip just a little and struggle to rein it in.  Damn it all, Ginny was about the only one who could make him do this.  Ron was already starting to rub his temples as if they ached. 

"Understand this, Ginny," he said softly, as serious as he could be.  Some part of him hating himself.  "I won't tell you a bloody thing.  Not when it'll get you killed."  Her face was white and strained, her eyes huge and dark and angry.  And hurt.  He forced himself to look at Ron and Hermione as well.  "This is my fight.  No one else's.  And the best thing you can do for me is stay well out of it."

Ron's face had darkened as Harry'd spoke, and he hated that he'd had to finally say this.  Damn Ginny for bringing it up.  Damn her for looking at him with those furiously wounded eyes, for ripping a piece of him off with every second that ticked away.

"Damn it, Potter, I thought we'd settled this," Ron growled, sitting forward. 

Harry met his friend's eyes, knowing the very blankness of his expression would be pissing his friend off.  "I'm sorry, Ron," he said, very softly.  "But I won't let you."

"You won't let me?  You won't _let_ me??" Ron surged to his feet to tower over Harry.  Bloody hell, his friend was tall.  The guy in Harry refused to sit while someone else got to loom over him, and Harry rose as well.  "Where the fuck do you get off saying you won't _let_ me do something?"

Harry took a step closer, only about a foot between them.  Hey, he wasn't as short as he'd thought.  Ron still had him by several inches and probably a few pounds, but he figured he at least stood a chance in a fistfight.  Not that he'd let that happen.  "You're my best damn friend, Ron," he said flatly.  "All of you.  And you can't help, anyway."  He instantly regretted saying that, knowing Hermione and probably Ginny would catch his little slip.  Bloody hell. 

Before they could think on it too long, he stepped back, away from Ron and shook his head.  "Look, just accept it," he said quietly.  "Listen to what I'm saying and do like I'm telling you.  You're Head Boy, Ron, you've got enough to deal with this year.  And you'll probably have to deal with more than you think."  An image of students running through the dark corridors in terror flashed through his mind.  "You can't help me.  And I won't let you."

He turned then and headed for the portrait, muscles tense as his senses carefully tracked the people behind him.  He was half expecting one of them to petrify him on his way out.  The Fat Lady closed behind him, however, without a curse following, and he took a deep breath. 

Damn, damn, double damn.  Harry turned and started for the Room of Requirement.  He might as well start practicing now.  It wasn't as if he had anything better to do.  And he rather felt like ripping something to shreds. 

Those brown eyes lingered with him, however, haunting the back of his mind even as he hurled curses and twisted and rolled and panted in exertion.  Damn Ginny Weasley.

Draco Malfoy was coming back from a rather satisfying encounter in a third-floor broom closet with Cara, when he turned down the corridor of the Room of Requirement in time to see the door open and Potter step out. 

Draco raised an eyebrow.  Apparently Potter was up to something in there, because he looked rather like Draco used to, last year.  Sweaty, singed and weary. 

Potter looked at him, but didn't change a muscle.  "Malfoy," he said with a wary nod.

Draco studied him, steps slowing.  Potter looked like shit, he decided.  Oh, sure, no one would probably notice, but it was in his eyes, the very blankness of them.  Not that it was any of his concern.

Still, on his way past, he drawled, "Potter.  Better stop in at Moaning Myrtles before dinner," and continued on his way. 

Behind him, he could all but feel the magic leaking off the other boy.  What was going on with him, he couldn't help but wonder.  He turned the corner and felt the presence behind him stop.  Whatever it was, the Boy Wonder better wise up or he'd self-destruct.  Draco shrugged.  Not that it was any of his concern, he reminded himself again.


	4. Friends

Sakura Sayoran - bowing  Thank you, kind reviewer, for your words of praise!  I have the same pet peeve, so I doubly appreciate hearing that you think my work is well-written.

Trinity Valyntine – Ooh, that's a nice, scary evil laugh.  Mind if I borrow it sometime?  I can think of a few kids I'd like to use it on…  lol.  Anyway, glad you're liking, and keep reading and reviewing!

Shahrezad1 – Yeah, you know, those darn kitchen gremlins are always messing with my recipies, too!  Why just the other day, somehow the sugar and salt got mixed up…  those cookies turned out to be QUITE unusual…  As for Moaning Myrtle, I was thinking more along the lines of getting cleaned up, but apparently you had something ELSE on your mind.  winks suggestively  Anyway.  Not to worry, Ginny's going to get Harry but good eventually

Amidala – I'm glad you're enjoying my little tale, keep reading and reviewing!

Chapter 3

Harry glanced again at where Moaning Myrtle was sitting, magically frozen and facing away from the sinks.  He'd _asked_ her to let him have a little privacy, but she just had to keep popping out of the drain just as he was reaching for his shirt.  Hence the freezing spell. 

Harry sighed, and pulled his wand out.  He flicked it in Myrtle's direction.  "Look, Myrtle, I'm sorry I had to do that," he said very quickly before the ghost could burst into her customary wails.  "But you gotta give a guy some privacy."  He wasn't terribly surprised when she started to sob, anyway.

"Oh, that was so _mean_…" she cried, before diving down into a toilet with another sob. 

Harry sighed again and pocketed his wand.  He'd still need a shower later, but at least he looked clean and normal, and he didn't smell.  As far as anyone would know, Harry Potter hadn't been up to anything suspicious at all.

Several minutes later, he stepped through the doors and into the Great Hall, where dinner had already started.  He scanned the Gryffindor table, eyes coming to rest on the two red heads and one brown at one end of the table.  They were currently huddled together as if discussing something.  He grimaced.  Probably his little outburst upstairs hadn't been the best course of action to take with those three.  He knew his friends, they would sink their teeth into something and not let go until they had the answers.  Hermione because she wanted to know, sometimes just for the sake of knowing.  Ron, because he was a bloody stubborn git.  And Ginny…  well, he had to guess it was a shared Weasley trait. 

And Harry knew that all three were perfectly serious in their intentions to help him.  After all, they'd done it before, many times.  Ron and Hermione from the very beginning.  Ginny since she'd gotten over being possessed by Voldemort.  Bloody hell, he thought, suddenly feeling the fatigue from his hour of practice catching up with him, what the hell else was he supposed to do?  Let them sacrifice their lives, just so they could say they'd helped again?

Ron looked up at that moment, and spotted Harry.  His eyes got narrow, and he looked over at Hermione and said something.  Her head and Ginny's turned in Harry's direction and he was studied a moment by all three.  It was a little unnerving, after all, his life would go from sucky to truly miserable if they all decided they hated him, but he stood there and just looked back. 

Finally Hermione pursed her lips and then said something to the other two that got slow nods.  She looked back at Harry and raised one eyebrow.  Harry could almost hear the command, and his lips twisted wryly.  Count on Hermione to be the level-headed one, the one to make peace first.

He walked slowly over to take a seat next to Ginny, across from Ron, being very careful not to let his leg touch hers.  He didn't look at the redhead next to him, couldn't.  Instead, he focused his eyes on her brother, sitting opposite with a stony face.  "Ron," he said quietly.

Ron scowled at him.  "Let's get one thing straight, Potter," he said, voice low as he stared right back at Harry.  "I don't give a shit how great a wizard you are, or whatever else everybody else says.  You just get this through your head.  You have no right to decide ANYTHING for me.  Hell, for any of us."  He thumped his chest.  "We're the ones that decide what we want to do with our lives."

Hermione chimed in then.  "You haven't liked people running your life for your Harry," she said, eyes serious.  "Don't try to do it to us, either."

Harry glanced down at his hands, lying flat against the table.  It was kind of funny to think that even right at this moment, he thought absently, he could probably kill any person in this room.  Well, maybe not some of the teachers.  Snape and Dumbledore would be pretty tough, McGonagall, too.  He sighed and looked back up at Ron.  "Yeah, I get that," he said softly.  "But you've got to get something, too.  I'm not going to help you end up dead.  And yes, I know a couple of things you don't.  And if I told you, it wouldn't do any good.  You'd just be that much closer to being someone else I used to know."

"You're such an arrogant prick, Harry," Ginny said from next to him, staring straight ahead.  "You think you're just the best, don't you?  We're all too bloody weak to measure up to the Great Harry Potter."  She picked up her fork and stabbed a bite of her previously untouched dinner.  "Well, fuck you."

"Gin," Ron said, a low warning growl.  He looked at Harry again, eyes neutral.  "I've been your mate a bloody long time, and I'm trusting that you don't really think that.  Because otherwise I'd have to pound the living daylights out of you.  But you'd better start getting used to the idea that we're going to be right there when something goes down, like it or not."

Harry and Ron locked eyes.  Ron's were blue and serious and about as intent as he'd seen his friends.  It hurt, knowing people cared this much about him, that they'd walk into death with their eyes open for him. 

Hermione was the one who broke the tension.  "Boys," she said softly, and Ron eased back, one corner of his mouth curling down into a frown.  Harry sighed, and looked down, rubbing one hand over his hair. 

He wasn't going to make it through the year, not if he had Hermione and Ron mad at him.  Sometimes it was like he was trapped in his own mind, circling and feinting and trying to find some kind of damn weakness or advantage over bloody Voldemort.  He needed his friends to keep him from going insane. 

"Look," he said slowly, trying to find the right words to explain, to get it right, and fumbling.  "Look," he said again.  "How about we say, I'll tell you as much as I feel comfortable, especially if it can help you."  Ron frowned but didn't say anything.  Harry looked at Hermione.  "We're not going to agree on this," he said, forestalling her.  "We're just not.  But…" he hesitated.  It was hard, saying things that left part of him open.  He'd gotten too good at walls.  "But I need you guys.  I'm sorry if you didn't think that.  I need you all," he said, glancing at Ginny next to him and then looking away quickly.  "Sometimes it's like I'm stuck in my head and can't get out.  And, well…" he shrugged a bit helplessly. 

He must have said something right, however, because Hermione's face had softened considerable.  "Harry, you're our best friend," she said.  "Just know we're here for whatever you need us for, and for the things you don't think you need, too."

Ron was looking at him with a speculative gleam in his eyes, that didn't fade when Harry turned back to him.  "Yeah," he said slowly, still eyeing Harry.  It made him nervous.  Ron could be thick at times, but there were moments when his friend got it faster than anyone else should be able to.  Ron gave his head a slight shake.  "Mates," he said, and held out a hand. 

Harry's mouth curled, relieved, and he shook it with his own in a firm clasp.  "Mates," he echoed.  He glanced at Ginny, but she was still staring down at her food. 

Before he could look away, she'd lifted her head and pinned him with that brown gaze.  "You can run, but you can't hide, Harry," she said, anger and hurt still lingering in the back of those eyes.  "And you'll get help whether you want it or not."  She turned back to her dinner.  "Now eat, before you waste away and start looking like bloody Seamus Finnigan, all scarecrow and scary looking," she said, and stabbed another piece of broccoli. 

Harry grinned, feeling a bit lighter.  Finnigan had shot up nearly a foot from his overly short height this summer and was currently thinner than a beanpole.  And Ginny couldn't really hate him if she could tell him to eat and not get thin.  He rolled his eyes at Ron.  "Why are girls always telling me to eat?" he asked, picking up his fork and reaching for the platter of chicken. 

Ron snorted, already shoveling some of his own neglected dinner.  "Because you're a scrawny, underfed, and ugly git," he mumbled through a mouthful. 

"Ron!  Don't talk with your mouth full, it's disgusting!" Hermione scolded. 

Harry grinned and took a bite himself.  He had great friends. 

Ginny was still plenty pissed at Harry Potter.  Pissed, hurt, infuriated, demeaned, you name it.  She was still in the mood to introduce him to her Bat-Bogey Hex as she headed up from the Great Hall toward the common room. 

"Oi, Ginny!" she heard a voice call behind her.  She paused, one foot on the first step of the staircase and turned to see Colin hurrying after her.  "Gin, do you have time to help me?" he asked, face pleading.  She'd told Colin that she'd help him get his photographs from last year in some kind of an order, her friend being miserable at organization. 

Maybe something nice and mindless like putting pictures in order would be just the thing to get rid of all this pissed off emotion, she thought.  She forced up a smile.  "Sure," she said.  It would probably take all night.

Colin heaved a huge, dramatic sigh.  "Oh, thank you thank you thank you," he said, and caught her off guard by grabbing her hands and twirling her in a circle.  Ginny found herself laughing, that heavy anger lifting off her chest.  There was more to life than Harry Potter and his dark mysteries, she told herself, flinging her arms around Colin with a squeal as he lifted her off her feet and kept spinning.

"Colin!" she laughed, before he finally set her down.  She clung to his arm as she caught her breath and waited for the hall to stop spinning.  Getting herself set again, she lifted her head and looked straight into grass-green eyes.  Harry stood at the end of the hall, just outside the doors to the Great Hall as Ron was saying something to him.  There was a strange dark intensity in his eyes as he held her gaze, almost as if he didn't realize he was doing it.  She felt breathless, on edge, as if she was a bare edge away from his dropping that wall behind his eyes and showing her something he'd held back until now…

And then Ron clapped him on the shoulder, and Harry looked away and the moment was lost.  Ginny let Colin pull her up the stairs, absently letting his chatter about some of the great shots he'd caught on film last year wash over her.  You can run, but you can't hide, Harry, she thought silently.  I _will_ get you to tell me what it is you're hiding.


	5. Double, Double, Toil and Trouble

Shahrezad – (pursing lips and raising one eyebrow)  SURE you never thought something like that.  Well, if you say so…  (grin)  Anywhoo.  Time to get this story moving, right?  Damn, that means having a plot…  better get cracking on that!

MetroDweller – Oh, never fear.  Harry'll meet that Bat-Bogey hex.  After all, he IS a boy, and all boys eventually do something hex-worthy.  Heh heh. 

Maria, Child-of-Scorpio &  Sakura Sayoran – (bowing)  Thank you for your kind words!  I appreciate the encouragement, it inspires me to get off my duff and come up with a next chapter.  Lol. 

Obsessed87 – Only the prologue was year 6, the rest is year 7.  I know I made that confusing…  and thanks for the offer of a beta, but I'm good.  (blowing kisses)

Author's Note:  Severus Snape is referred to as 'Snape', his wife as 'Professor Snape'.  Unless I used first names, of course. 

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Chapter 4

Harry eyed the doorway with great anxiety.  "I can't bloody well believe we're doing this."

Ron was looking a little pale himself, standing next to him.  "I know.  Voluntarily walking back into a room with the Old Bat."

Harry turned his head and looked at his best mate.  Solemnly he held out his hand.  "Ron, I just want to say, before we go in there and meet our doom, it's been a pleasure traipsing these halls with you."

Ron was equally somber as he shook Harry's hand.  "Same here.  I only wish it could have lasted longer."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," came a disgusted voice behind them.  "Get over your selves and get out of the way."  Harry and Ron looked at each other and rolled their eyes as Malfoy pushed by.

"Bloody git, he doesn't have to worry about being 'accidentally' poisoned," Ron muttered.

"Really, Ron, you don't either," came Hermione's crisp voice behind them.  Yikes, she was sounding a bit too much like McGonagall these days, Harry thought, jumping.  "Professor Snape is an excellent teacher, and really, brilliant at Potions.  Did you honestly think he wouldn't keep the NEWTS class himself?"

"No, but I could hope," Ron grumbled.  Hermione heaved a sigh and grabbed each of them by the sleeve and started tugging.  "Oi, careful there!  Don't want to start off the morning with some nasty bruises," Ron protested anxiously as she was a little careless in her steering and the two of them came rather close to the stone walls. 

They made it inside and found it was going to be a small class.  A very small class, Harry thought, looking around.  Malfoy had ensconced himself at a table in the back corner, looking serene and not like he wanted any company.  Not that Harry would have given him any.  Bloody git, he didn't like him.  Not at all. 

Hannah Abbott and Peter Barrow from Hufflepuff were over on the right hand side, sharing a table and murmuring nervously.  He recognized Padma Patil from Ravenclaw, and two of her friends, Clarisse and Meg, he thought their names were.  He, Ron and Hermione were the only ones stupid enough from Gryffindor to try and take this damn class.  Harry heaved a sigh.  Maybe he shouldn't have signed up, after all, chances were that he wouldn't live to be an auror anyway, really, he was just putting himself through a whole shitload of misery in the meantime for no good reason…

Just then Snape's office door opened and the Potion Master himself stepped through.  Harry snapped out of it, and quickly deposited himself behind the nearest table.  Which, he saw with dismay, was next to Draco and on the other side of Hermione.  Crap.  He had a feeling he was going to need Hermione's help to make it through this year…

"So this is my NEWTS level class," Snape said in a silky voice.  His eyes flicked to each of them.  "Abbott.  Barrow.  Patil."  All three were treated to derisive glances.  "Your grades were barely adequate for this class.  You will have to do far better to remain in it."  He turned to the other two Ravenclaws.  "Compton and Fisher.  You were borderline average.  I will accept nothing less than excellence from students who wish to remain in my class."

He turned next to Draco.  "Mr. Malfoy.  You have the skill, but I will not allow you to get overly cocky.  All it takes is a few mistakes."  His gaze darted to the other side of the room.  "You as well, Miss Granger."

Harry waited as Snape then turned his attention to Ron and himself.  "And last but certainly never least, Potter and his faithful sidekick Weasley.  I don't know what demon possessed you to attempt this course, but rest assured, you will not be able to skate on the skills of Granger alone."  Snape's eyes were hard and boring into Harry.  He stared right back.  The old bat didn't scare him anymore.  No, not when he had bigger things to be scared about.  "You will be all alone," the Potion Master said, a bit mockingly.

Just then, there was a bang as the classroom door flew open, and in came Professor Stone – no, Professor Snape, Harry corrected himself, unable to keep his lips from twitching.  "Ah, then, sorry it took me so long," she exclaimed, starting to limp over to where the two desks sat at the front of the room.  "I meant to be here for your welcoming speech, Severus, but Minerva insisted on having me examine this bizarre little essay one of the second year Hufflepuffs wrote on cats and marshmallows…"

Glancing at Ron, Harry saw that his friend, too, was trying to swallow his smile.  Even Snape, nasty and snarky as he was, was rolling his eyes and fighting a smile.  "Sonora," he cut her off.  "Please.  Spare the details."  He inclined his head toward the class.  "I am in the middle of something."

She settled herself down behind her desk and waved a hand cheerfully.  "Oh, sorry, do go on, I'll just sit her and watch."

Snape scowled at his wife.  It was funny to think that, his wife, silently smirked Harry.  "Don't you have papers to mark?"

She kept smiling at him, and it was starting to look a bit suspicious to Harry.  It was almost as if Professor Snape intended to sit and watch while Snape…  Harry started to grin.  He _knew_ he liked her, yes indeed.  He'd like to see Snape hand out cruel and unusual punishments when his wife was watching.

And apparently Snape had the same though, because he was looking cross and seriously disappointed.  Poor fellow, he hasn't gotten to bait me for a couple of years now, Harry thought, still grinning.  And now he still can't, or the wife will get him. 

The Potion Master turned back to the class and in a rather disgruntled tone, proceeded to lay out the rules and course expectations for the coming year.  They'd be doing some dandy potions, some really hard ones that frankly Harry wasn't completely sure were legal.  Malfoy next to him was looking like Christmas had come early.  They had to do them completely on their own, too.  No partners.  That didn't bother him so much, after all, he'd gotten stuck with Draco for two years. 

"You will begin today on brewing the Wolfsbane Potion," Snape announced.  "It will be a process of several weeks to complete, and it will be tested by a werewolf for accuracy."  Snape's eyes gleamed at that, and he sent a smirk Harry's way.  Harry stilled.  Bloody hell, Lupin was going to get student potions?  Well, if he'd wanted an incentive to study Potions, he'd gotten one, he thought grimly.  And Ron damn well would, too. 

As they fell into line to collect ingredients, Harry found himself standing in front of Malfoy.  "Welcome back to the big time, Potter," the Slytherin said coolly.  "Think you can make it all on your own?"

Harry glanced over his shoulder, amused despite himself.  "Malfoy," he drawled, "you have no idea." 

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Ginny studied her wand carefully.  It was a swish-swish followed by a downward flick, she reminded herself.  And bloody hell, her brothers had shown her the charm three years ago.  She should be able to get this one on the first try. 

She pointed, aimed and swished.  "_Indoctorine facadius_!"  And then grinned as Cara's familiar face in front of her shimmered and then shifted to look like that famous muggle singer she'd seen in one of her dormmate's magazines.  "Hey, Brittany!" she giggled.

Cara held up her hands, scrutinizing them.  "What the…"  Her jaw dropped.  "Oh no you did not," she exclaimed, frantically pulling her hair over one shoulder.  "You bloody bi-witch!  I'm BLONDE!"

Ginny chortled again.  "Draco'll love it," she said. 

"Not blonde, anything but blonde, come on, be a friend," Cara moaned.  "Pleeeease…"

"Oh, well done, Miss Weasley," jumped in the voice of Professor Flitwick.  "Look here, everyone, Miss Weasley has done it on the first try."  Their tiny professor circled Cara, who was looking like she'd either hex or throttle Ginny any moment, if only she could decide which one.  "Marvelous work, really, quite good.  Even the fingernails…"

Ginny just crossed her arms and smirked as Cara was forced to submit to Flitwick's oooing and aahing.  Finally the little professor darted off to see to the small bang Colin had just caused on the other side of the room, and Cara glowered at her. 

"You do realize, I'm going to get you for this," her friend informed her. 

Ginny examined her nails.  "Oh really?"

Cara lifted her wand and grinned, looking truly evil, particularly since she was a dead ringer for that over-endowed muggle star.  "Because I haven't practiced nearly as much as you have, darling," she said sweetly.  "And I rather had Little Orphan Annie in mind."

"Who…" was all Ginny had time for, before Cara had leveled her wand.

"_Indoctorine facadius_," said Evil-Looking Brittany with a smirk.

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Harry plopped down at the Gryffindor table, feeling totally wiped out.  "Ye gods, I'm going to die," he muttered.  "Snape's going to find a way to kill me."

Ron patted him on the back, looking comparatively cheerful.  "Buck up, mate, it's not like he'll do it when we're all around as witnesses."  His redheaded friend lowered his voice.  "But be careful about being around at night alone…"  Harry gave him a sharp elbow in the ribs, cutting off the blather. 

Hermione was rolling her eyes.  Again.  She did that a lot, Harry thought.  "Oh, come on, Harry, he was much easier on you than he has been in the past.  Why, you only lost ten points today!"

Harry groaned.  "For dropping my spoon on the table!"

"_You're endangering your classmates with such violent behavior, Potter,_" Ron mimicked, grinning, mouth full of ham sandwich.  "Hey, better you than me.  Maybe this working alone thing is gonna be good after all."

Just then, someone dropped down into the seat next to Hermione, looking extremely cross.  "I'm going to kill Cara," that person announced in a familiar tone. 

Ron's jaw dropped, showing a rather disgusting array of partially chewed food.  "Uh, Ginny?"

"Oh, brilliant deduction, Sherlock," the girl/person retorted.  "What was your first clue?"

Harry stared too.  Holy hell.  He didn't know what they'd been doing in that class, but Ginny's face was currently rearranged as if someone hadn't managed to get all the pieces back in the right order.  Was that her ear on the back of her head?

Hermione was gaping.  "Cara did that?  Did she practice the charm at all?"

Ginny-Person snorted, out of her chin, no less, and reached for a sandwich with liver spotted hands.  "Bloody little twit was getting me back for making her blonde.  She gets to be a supermodel, and I end up a sideshow act!  And it'll take the rest of the day to wear off!"

Ron's head shot up with great interest.  "So where is Cara," he asked. 

Harry spotted a stacked blonde cozying up to Draco over at the Slytherin table and nudged his friend appreciatively.  "I'd say that was her with Malfoy." 

Ron let out a whistle.  "Wow," he said, admiring.  Hermione scowled.  Ron didn't notice.  "Yeah, I'd say that's not a fair turnaround, Gin.  Ahh, you wouldn't mind getting Cara to take a few pictures while she's like that, would you?  Just for putting up in the common room, so people could have something to practice at."

"Practice what," Harry mumbled under his breath, smirking, and was treated to death glares by both girls.  Well, at least he thought it was a glare from Ginny.

"I can't go to class like this," Ginny moaned, dropping her face into her hands.  She nearly looked normal that way.  "I'm going to the Hospital Wing and hiding.  There's no way Pomphrey would send me back to class."

Hermione rubbed her back soothingly.  "Of course not.  I'll tell Cara to get your assignments, after all, she's the one who landed you in this pickle.  Ron.  RON!" she snapped at the still ogling Head Boy.  "Get your mind out of the gutter, and take your sister to the Hospital Wing."

"It wasn't in the gutter, I was just admiring what a fine job Ginny did," Ron protested, ears pink.  "Right, Harry?"

Harry coughed.  "Sure," he said.  Hermione still glared.  Was Ron in for it later, he thought with a grin.  Big clueless git.  Maybe it would drive Hermione to do something rash and get some of those pesky feelings out in the open.  Although that would mean he'd loose the bet, and that would be a sad loss of two Galleons…

As his friends all started to depart, Ron and Ginny to the Hospital Wing, Hermione heading for the Slytherin table where Cara/Blondie was currently being gawked at by most of the school, Harry reached for another sandwich.  Ham was quite a nice filler, he was thinking as he picked one up.

And then a scene exploded through his head in rapid fire succession.  _The forest.  Night.  Wolves howling.  The chill of Dementors.  The smell of blood, fresh blood.  And those damn red eyes boring into him.  _

And then he snapped back out of it.  He was in the Great Hall, a sandwich crushed to a gooey pulp in his hand, his breath ragged.  Dammit all. 

Carefully he set the sandwich down.  It fit with the others.  More of the what, he thought, trying desperately to separate himself from the violent emotion of the vision, but still not the when.  He needed the when.  _When_ would Voldemort attack?

He wiped his hands on a napkin and carefully, deliberately left the Great Hall.  He had Astronomy to get to, and Merlin knew Hermione would scold if he were late. 


	6. Captain, My Captain

Patchcat, Mrs. SakuraPotter – You asked for it, here it is! Thanks for reading, keep reviewing!

Child-of-Scorpio – Yes. Brittany Spears IS evil. And so am I… bwahahahahaha!

Shahrezad1 – Yeah, I don't imagine Draco was too terribly upset at the results of Charms class. (rolling eyes) After all, he's a guy, and lets face it, guys are rather fond of Brittany. For OBVIOUS reasons. Sheesh. Anywhoo. I think it's time to get a little darker, don't you?

HermioneGranger – Shakespeare? My dear, you flatter me! (beaming) Er, don't let that stop you, however… lol. At any rate, I will do my very best to keep the chapters at their very best. Also, if I start getting bogged down in real life and aren't posting fast enough, there are two prequels to this story: "Hidden Intents" (Snape-OC), and "Undercurrents" (Draco-OC). Each will stand alone, but they all do fit together rather nicely, in my opinion.

AN: A little short, but it was time to get this plot moving. Lets see if you can guess where this little tale is headed…

Chapter 5

Harry was comfortably ensconced in one of the common room chairs, Charms book in hand as he perused the index for more on camouflage charms, when Ron came bursting through the portrait door.

"Harry!" his friend hollered as he dashed for the dorm stairs, completely missing the fact that the person in question was ten feet away. "Harry, mate, get down here, they're posting Quiddich captains!"

"Ron, I'm right here," Harry said mildly as he set his book down. His heart was starting to speed up, despite his efforts to stay calm. After all, Ron had enough excitement going for the both of them. Quiddich! It made his blood sing like nothing else… well, almost nothing else, he silently admitted, refusing to let his eyes wander to a certain corner of the room.

Ron whipped about, spotted Harry, and was on him like Crookshanks with a dustbunny. "Come on, come ON!" Ron barked as Harry was literally dragged out the portrait hole and down the stairs. "Merlin, you'd think you had no interest in this at all."

"Well, I…" was about all Harry was able to say before he was hurled into a mass of fellow quiddich players, who upon seeing him started to holler and thump Harry on the back, practically knocking the wind out of him. Twenty people or so, all 'patting' you on the back carried quite a bit of force, Harry found as he staggered about.

He managed to make it up to the announcement board where Madam Hooch had posted the Captaincies, and stared. Holy hell, he thought blankly.

There was yet another heavy thump on his back, this time from Ron as he whooped with glee. "Well done, mate, I knew you'd get it!" his friend grinned. "Oi, Gryffindors, lets give the Captain his due, eh?"

Harry yelped and laughed out loud as Ron and someone else, maybe Seamus, hoisted him up onto their shoulders and started parading him around the hallway. "Pot-TER, Pot-TER, Pot-TER…" they started chanting and Harry couldn't help but grin as he hung on for dear life, praying he wouldn't get dropped and his head cracked against the floor, ending the season before it started.

Nearly every team and its members were there, checking out the postings, and Harry couldn't help but smirk at the Slytherins who stood off to the side, away from the rest of the laughing mass of players from the other three houses. They just glowered and he gave them a cheerful two fingered salute, before grabbing back on to Ron's shoulder.

His grinning eyes then swept over the rest of the crowd, feeling a rush of affection. His team, the other players… it was something special this game. It never failed to make his heart lift and his mind clear.

And then a certain redheaded chaser caught his eyes from the other side of the room, where she was beaming with pleasure and pride. "Congratulations," she mouthed at him, and Harry couldn't stop himself from beaming back at her. Forget a careful distance, this was quiddich! And he'd just made captain! And then she winked and blew a kiss at him, and he could literally feel that butterfly motion land against his cheek. His face reddened, despite his best efforts, and he had to force himself to look away.

Fortunately for Harry, Seamus happened to miss a step at that moment and he and his bearers came crashing down in one massive heaping tangle of arms and legs, that was further exacerbated when some genius decided that every one should pile on. As Harry disappeared beneath a pile of grinning, shouting players he was laughing out loud.

$$$$$$$$$$

Ginny was grinning still as she curled up on her bed with her Defense book. She hadn't seem smiles that big out of Harry since before Sirius died. The boy did love his quiddich, she thought, once again picturing the look on his face as Ron and Seamus had hoisted him into the air and started parading him around. For a moment there, he'd been just another laughing, exhuberant seventeen-year old.

Cara came waltzing in at that point, finally restored to her regular appearance instead of her earlier blonde-ness. "Ginny, darling, I completely forgive you for the whole Brittany Spears thing," her best friend announced.

Ginny smirked as Cara dropped down on her own bed with a luxurious sigh. 'I take it certain parties were, ah, _intrigued_ by your temporary look?"

She could see the smug smile from all the way across the room, it was so big. "You could say that," Cara said, and then giggled. "Better yet, was when it finally wore off." She sighed, big and satisfied. "It's always nice to know he likes the real me best."

Ginny smiled as well, this time a wistful one. Would Harry like her better if she was blonde? More slender in the waist? Bigger curves up top? She gave her head a shake. Stop it, she admonished herself, looking back down at the book in her lap. It's not your looks keeping the damn idiot away.

She was suddenly unable to concentrate on the reading assignment, so while Cara lay on her bed and hummed, Ginny tossed the textbook aside and instead pulled her 'Harry' notebook out of her bedside table. She skimmed pages, reading notes she'd made to herself, comments he'd let slip over the last year or so.

What was it he'd said a few days ago, when they'd all been so mad at him? _Yes, I know a couple of things you don't. And if I told you, it wouldn't do any good. You'd just be that much closer to being someone else I used to know._ At least he was admitting he was keeping something from them, she thought with a flash of anger. He'd refused to even acknowledge that last year.

What was it he'd said to Ron that night? _You're my best damn friend, Ron. All of you. And you can't help, anyway._ Ginny started to frown. We can't help, anyway? She thought. Her brow furrowed, ignoring Cara as she started to warble hideously off tune as she got up and headed for the showers. Ginny flipped pages, scanning them quickly. They couldn't help anyway…

It could have been a few minutes, it could have been an hour, but finally something clicked in Ginny's brain. Her eyes got big. Holy hell…

"Hermione!" she shouted as she scrambled off the bed and dashed for the dormroom door. "Hermione!"

$$$$$$$$$

Harry leaned back against his pillows with a sigh. Well, his evening had shaped up to be quite a nice one, he thought with a grin. Dean had even broken out his supply of special-occasion Limited Edition Butterbeers his father had bought him over the summer. The butterbeer had gone down smooth and cool and he could still taste the sweet flavor lingering on his tongue even now. Harry licked his lips. It was a great was to celebrate, he thought. Far better than the firewhisky he'd shared with Draco last year.

Ron was already in bed, curtains drawn and light snores coming from behind the heavy drapes. Harry smirked. And that was with the muffling charm on his curtains. Harry pitied the poor woman who ended up marrying Ron, she was going to have to get creative to get a good night's sleep. Of course, knowing Hermione she'd have the whole thing figured out after the first night…

Harry stopped that line of though with a grimace. No need to go there. Hermione was practically his sister, it rather grossed him out to contemplate her and Ron together. Not that he was above placing a few small wagers on the outcome, no sirree. He just didn't want to get too specific if he could help it.

Harry yawned and closed his eyes. Tomorrow, he'd have to see about setting up a practice schedule and booking the pitch for regular practices… he'd like to leave Hogwarts with his name on the cup, he thought sleepily, it would really be something…

Unknowing, as Harry slipped into slumber, he slipped into an all-too familiar dream…

----------

**The forest. Night. Wolves howling. Harry could feel the icy chill of Dementors as they lurked among the trees. He kept his back against bark as he slipped silently through the trees. He was taking no chances.**

** The smell of blood, fresh blood, reached his nostrils. Bile rose in his throat and had to be swallowed back down. Who was it, he wondered. So many were missing or dead… there was no way of knowing. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Seamus, Dean… and Ginny. Harry gritted his teeth and kept moving.**

**The forest was dark and pressing in on him like a living thing as Harry drew near a clearing. There was a blazing light coming from it, a fire, perhaps? He didn't know, and was afraid to see. **

**He crept forward to see a ring of hooded men in black. Death Eaters. And on their far side, waiting for him… Voldemort. **

**"No," Harry said, not knowing he was speaking aloud. "This is not the time or place."**

**Those damn red eyes bored into him as the black figures began to move toward him, closing in. "I choose the time and place, Potter," hissed that evilly compelling voice. **

**"No!" Harry shouted, pulling his wand out and pointing it at Voldemort, only to have him disappear behind the rapidly closing Death Eaters. "NO!"**

----------

Harry awoke and found himself sitting straight up in bed, breathing heavily. He was in a cold sweat, hands clenched tight enough that he could feel the skin straining over his knuckles. A dream, a dream, he told himself, desperately trying to gain control.

Fearfully, he glanced about at his roommates. All were asleep, the room dark, their breathing even. So he hadn't woken them, this time.

He drew his knees up and rested his forehead against them in the dark, thankful for the night that hid his moment of weakness. Sometimes, he thought wearily, it was all just too much. Sometimes he wished there was someone he could just let it all out too, but always some part jumped in to remind him that he could be signing that person's death warrant. Or worse. He'd seen visions of Death Eater meetings, he knew what could happen before a person died. He'd felt it himself at Voldemort's very hand.

He wrapped his arms about his knees and kept his head down, taking deep breaths, regaining his precious control. Carefully he cleared his mind, picturing himself taking a wet sponge and wiping the slate in his mind perfectly clean. His muscles relaxed one by one as he slowly built the wall back up, brick by brick.

Harry finally laid back against the pillows again. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes. He still didn't know that he was seeing the final battle, he told himself. It wasn't the right time or place. It wouldn't be there, the final showdown.

At least, he didn't think so.


	7. Catching On

Child-of-scorpio – Check my favorites list, under my profile, there should be a few marked in there.  Often I find more good ones by checking author profiles of stories I like…  If someone writes ONE good story, chances are they've written another.  Happy Hunting!

Shahrezad1 – (perking up, looking around)  Cookies?  Candy?  I'm feeling inspired…  And lets see what Ginny thinks she's figured out, shall we?

MetroDweller – Lets face it.  Men like blonde bimbos in tight clothing.  Fortunately for the rest of us, having the real thing right at hand is usually much more interesting.  (wink, wink).  Anywhoo…  back to our story…

Java, lilyflower-hp, Mrs.SakuraPotter – You want more, you got more. 

Moonglaze – Now, did I _say_ that the final battle's in the Forbidden Forest?  (pursing lips and looking at the ceiling)  Hmm…

  $$$$$$$$$$

Chapter 6

Hermione moaned and rubbed her eyes tiredly.  "I can't believe we just did that," she said for the millionth time in the last hour. 

Ginny sighed, tired as well.  "Look, you want to know what the heck's going on, right?  And how else were we supposed to find this stuff?"

Hermione yawned and sat forward again, reaching for yet another glossy tome.  "_The Young and Innocent Years of Harry Potter: An Unauthorized Biography of the First Three Years_," she read off the spine.  She cast Ginny a disgusted look.  "Why'd they stop at three?  Why not go to five?"

Ginny snorted.  "Beats me," she said, looking over the stacks of books they'd, um, 'taken' from the library at around two am.  "I didn't even realize that there'd been this much written about him."

"The Boy-Who-Lived," Hermione murmured.  "Who saved the wizarding world and then disappeared for the next ten years.  How could a writer resist?"

Ginny snorted, and half-yawned.  "Some of this stuff is really stupid," she told Hermione, flipping pages.  "Like how this one says that Harry was actually sent to live with gnomes in southern Italy, and that he was supposed to return under an assumed name."

Hermione yawned again.  "Gnomes?  Garden gnomes?  Right.  Like a human baby would even _fit_ in a gnome hole."  She rubbed her head wearily.  "Ok.  What do we have so far?"

Ginny reached for her faithful notebook.  "We know that there was a prophecy about Harry," she said.  "We know because that's what Voldemort went to go get at the Department of Mysteries."  She flipped a page.  "We know that it was broken and no one heard what it said.  We know that after Sirius died there, Harry changed."

Hermione took over now, ticking things off on her fingers.  "Since then, Harry has been much moodier, darker and depressed.  Following the incident with Bellatrix last year, he began disappearing for periods of time and refusing to tell us where or why."  She sighed.  "You know, if it was anyone but Harry, we could suspect him of having some kind of secret fling."

Ginny winced, it actually hurt to think.  "Please," she said in a pained voice.  After all, there wasn't any point standing on ceremony with Hermione.  They'd shared a few too many secrets this past summer in her bedroom.

Hermione grinned tiredly.  "But it IS Harry, and there's no way he's seeing a girl without it getting back to us somehow."  She yawned again.

"So we're back to the prophecy, the one no one knows and no one will ever hear because it was broken," Ginny said, staring down at the books covering the table, books written about the life and times of one Harry Potter. 

Hermione shook her head.  "I can't believe we didn't think of it before," she said, sounding aggrieved.  "Just because no one can hear it now, doesn't mean someone hadn't already."

"I still say it was Dumbledore who told Harry," Ginny said thoughtfully.  "That's something else that's been going on since Sirius, Harry's been kind of cold to him.  And you know how Harry hates having things, well…"

"Yeah," Hermione sighed, closing the book in front of her.  "It would explain a lot."  She propped her chin on her hands.  "But what IS the prophecy?" she wondered.

Ginny leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes, glancing at the clock.  Bloody hell, it was four in the morning.  People would be getting up soon.  Hermione was flipping idly through her notebook, scanning the various things Ginny had jotted down. 

"You've really been thorough," her friend said, studying another page before reading on. 

Ginny shrugged.  "Yeah, well…"

Hermione sighed.  "It's hell, isn't it," she mused.  "Stupid gits don't deserve all the stuff we do for them."

"I still say you should snog Ron senseless and see what happens," Ginny said, closing her eyes.  "Just not in front of me.  I might be scarred for life."

"Gin," Hermione said absently.  "What was it Harry said at dinner that one night?"

"Look on the last page," she said, not opening her eyes.  Damn, she was tired.

"_You're my best damn friend, Ron. All of you. And you can't help, anyway_," Hermione read aloud.  "We can't help him, he says.  We can't…"  Hermoine's voice trailed off.  After nearly a minute of silence, Ginny opened her eyes and stared at her friend.

"Well?" she demanded.  "That's what brought us here, to researching the prophecy, remember?"

Hermione seemed to shake herself, and looked at Ginny, eyes gleaming.  "What if it's even simpler than that?" she said.  "What if it's one of those things that we just never think to assume?"

"Like?" Ginny asked, heart starting to beat.

Hermione leaned close, looking excited.  "No one can help him," she said again.  "What if THAT'S the prophecy?"

Ginny stared at the Head Girl, whose eyes were shining, despite the bags, who was practically radiating brilliance.  "Damn, you're right," she breathed.  "No one can help him.  He's got to do it himself." She said, thinking out loud.  "No one can help him…  help him what?"

They stared at each other a moment before reality sunk in.  "Shit," Hermione whispered, Ginny not even blinking at the unfamiliar curse word from the straight-laced girl.  "No one but him…  can kill Voldemort."

  $$$$$$$$$$

Harry was whistling as he headed for McGonagall's office.  Quiddich Captain, he thought cheerfully.  Had he really been thinking it would be too much work, he thought with a grin.  Idiot.  No one in their right mind considered quiddich _work_. 

He rapped on the door of his Head of House's office.  He needed to work out a schedule and book the pitch…

The door opened and Professor McGonagall looked at him.  Huh.  He was as tall as she was, he realized for the first time.  "Yes, Mr. Potter?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

Harry shook himself mentally and smiled at his professor.  "I need to see about scheduling quiddich practices, ma'am," he said.

"Ah, yes indeed," McGonagall said briskly, bustling back to her desk and picking up what looked like a calendar.  "You're being very prompt about it, I'm glad to see."  She shot a look at him over the top of her spectacles.  "I suppose I do not need to say that I would be highly displeased to have the trophy leave my desk this year?"

Harry grinned at her in complete understanding.  "No ma'am," he said.  "I'd be rather upset, myself."

"Excellent," the professor said, flipping pages.  "Only Hufflepuff has signed up for times so far, so you still have quite a few good choices."

Harry scanned the calendar as she handed it to him to look.  Considering, he mentally figured how when would be the best times to practice.  If he could avoid the early morning times except for emergencies, his team would most definitely be grateful…

Ten minutes later, Harry was handing the calendar back, his practice times magically inked in so that the other heads would know the pitch had been booked for those times.  Five days, three hours each, one Saturday afternoon session for four…  it wasn't too much, was it?  After all, he'd fly all day if they'd let him.

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall broke into his thoughts.  Harry looked at her to see that the Transfiguration Professor was giving him quite an intent stare.  "I have noticed quite a change in your spellwork over the past year.  Indeed, in the past week," she said, eyes fixed on him.  "Is there something you would like to discuss, perhaps?"

Harry resisted the urge to wince.  Damn.  Sooner or later, someone was going to catch on to his increased abilities.  He'd thought it would be Hermione.  "No ma'am," he said politely.

McGonagall studied him.  "Quite a bit rests on your shoulders, Potter," she said, voice unexpectedly kind.  "There is no shame, no weakness in letting others help share the load."

Harry sighed, looked down, and then back up.  He wasn't sure if she knew the prophecy or not, but…  "Maybe, but there's danger in it," he said quietly.  "And I'm fine, professor."

She watched him another long moment, then sighed.  "No, Mr. Potter, I don't believe you are.  But then, none of us truly are," she said.  She waved her hand at her office door.  "You may go."  Harry'd only made it a few steps before she called his name again.  "Oh, and Mr. Potter?"  He turned and looked at her.  Professor McGonagall smiled.  "Congratulations on making captain.  No one has earned it more than yourself."

  $$$$$$$$$$

Harry found out after dinner that six days of practice WAS apparently too much.  He was currently being yelled at by all six members of his team.  "ARE YOU BLOODY CRAZY?" Ron was shouting, along with everyone else.  "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH TIME THAT IS…"

Harry finally got sick of it all.  "Enough!" he yelled and somewhat to his surprise, they all shut up.  Sure, they were all glaring at him, but they were all quiet.  "Look," he said, uncomfortable for a brief moment with being the center of attention.  "I know it's six days of practice, ok?  But it's only three hours during the week, and one afternoon on the weekend.  AND," he held up his hand to forestall Colin Creevey's open mouth.  "I made all the times after classes and before dinner.  No early morning, no late night.  Plenty of time to get back and have dinner and do schoolwork, or to sleep in on the weekend.  Hell, nothing conflicting in the evening if you've got something special lined up."  He looked at Ron on that one, trying for a pointed look, but his dense friend was too busy glaring. 

Harry spread his hands, trying to appeal to their common sense.  He hoped.  "I want the cup, guys, I really really want it.  But I tried to find a way to get it without completely ruining our lives."  He paused and then pulled a rueful face.  "And frankly, lets face it.  McGonagall wants to keep it badly enough that she'd authorize me to make you work day and night."  There were a few reluctant smiles at that.  Thank god.  He was afraid he was going to get burned in effigy. 

"Fine," Ron grumbled.  "But you gotta tell 'Mione that she has to wait until the evening to do homework with me.  'Cause I'M sure not being the one to break that news."  There was a spurt of relieved laughter at that, and the tension eased. 

"How about we owl her?" Harry suggested, grinning.  "Look, everyone, first practice tomorrow, ok?  Suit up and be on time, and lets get started."  There was a scraping of chairs as the rest of the team started to leave, including Ginny and Ron.  "Hey Ron, you got a minute?" Harry asked. 

His mate shrugged and sat back down.  "Sure.  Maybe we'll get lucky and Ginny will break the news to Hermione."  Harry grinned a little absently as his eyes followed the redhead across the room to where their other friend was sitting.  She'd been watching him today, with serious, solemn eyes that seemed to be looking for something.  He'd been tempted to delve into her mind to see if he could find out… but just couldn't.  Not to her, not to any of his friends.  He refused to go looking in their heads without them knowing.

He was jostled out of his thoughts by Ron's elbow.  "Something you want to tell me?" his friend said with a gleam in his eye.  Harry realized his was still staring at Ginny. 

His face tightened, and he turned away.  "No," he said. 

Ron raised an eyebrow and lounged back in his chair.  "No?" he said.  "Seems to me you spend a lot of time looking at my sister, for someone who doesn't have anything he'd like to share."

Harry blew out a breath.  Merlin, this was getting to be one of his nightmares.  The one that usually ended in all six Weasley men pounding on him for thinking impure thoughts about their beloved baby sister.  "No," he repeated again, and quickly moved to turn the conversational gimlet back on his buddy.  "Unless there's something YOU'D like to say…" he trailed off, glancing significantly back across the room. 

This time it was Ron who looked, flushed and then stared determinedly at the floor.  "Nope," he said, uncomfortably.

Harry smirked for a moment.  Hah.  Take that.  Then he made himself focus again.  "Look, I was thinking about how we're going to need plays…" he began, and Ron leaned forward.  "You're the strategist, do you think you could come up with some?  Something new, that those slimy gits won't know."

"You're the captain, don't you want to do this?" Ron asked considerately, but with that greedy gleam in his eye.  Oh, he wanted to do this, Harry smirked silently.  He knew his man. 

"A good captain knows how to delegate," he grinned.  "And lets face it.  All I do usually is fly around looking for a little ball.  You're down in the middle of it all.  Plus you've kicked my ass at chess for the last seven years."

Ron smirked and puffed out his chest.  "I could give you a few ideas," he said.  "Like how about this…" and they fell into deep discussion of feints and passes.

  $$$$$$$$$$

Ginny was settled at a table with her homework, trying to concentrate on Charms and not on the handsome Mr. Potter, who was _still_ arguing plays with her brother, when the portrait door opened and Professor McGonagall walked in. 

"Mr. Potter," their Head of House called.  "A word, please," she said.

Harry got up and crossed over, and the two of them stepped back outside.  The portrait closed, and for the life of her, Ginny couldn't concentrate on her work.  Everything Harry did and said seemed to have taken on a whole new meaning and depth.  How many people knew about the prophecy, about what Harry had to do someday? She wondered. 

The portrait opened again, and Harry stalked in, looking stiff and furious.  "Oi, what'd she say," Ron asked.

Harry muttered something low, that Ginny couldn't hear, but Ron's eyebrows shot up.  "Snape?  Again?  After what happened before?" her brother asked before Harry just shook his head and headed for the dormitory stairs. 

Ginny looked away from the retreating back of the black-haired boy as her brother dropped down next to her, scowling absently.  Hermione looked up from her place across the table.  "What is it now?" she asked worriedly. 

Ron glared at the tabletop.  "Harry's got to take Occlumency with Snape again," he said.  "Even after all the shit hit the fan at the end of fifth year."

Hermione grimaced.  "At least Snape's mellowed some, with Professor Stone, I mean, Snape.  Maybe it won't be so bad."  Her voice was uncertain however, and privately Ginny agreed.  She couldn't see this being anything but bad, either.

Ron grumbled something under his breath, and then looked at the two of them.  "Hey, I've been meaning to ask, why were the two of you so tired at breakfast this morning?  I don't think I've see you guys dragging like that before."

Hermione looked over at Ginny, their eyes met.  They'd debated whether to tell Ron, who wasn't always the best with secrets and staying calm.  Ginny finally nodded, and Hermione turned back to a now puzzled-looking Head Boy.

"We may have figured out what it is Harry's been hiding," she said in a very low voice. 


	8. What Dreams May Bring

AN: My responses to reviews have moved to the bottom of the chapter. You wonderful reviewers, you… Also, I can't exactly recall how the Occlumency worked, so forgive me if I got it wrong.

Chapter 7

"We may have figured out what it is Harry's been hiding," Hermione said, glancing at Ginny.

Ginny watched her brother carefully. Any sign of an impending eruption and she was going to hex him, honest, she was. Somewhat to her surprise, however, rather than getting red and blustery, Ron's face got serious.

"Yeah?" he said, leaning forward. "What've you two come up with?"

Hermione kept her voice low. "We think it's the prophecy," she said. "We think Dumbledore told him what it was after the Department of Mysteries, and that it's been hanging over his head ever since."

"Add it on top of him blaming himself for Sirius dying, and our all getting hurt…" Ginny added softly. Ron gave her a quick, keen glance that she didn't quite understand, but nodded, silently asking them to go on.

Hermione sighed and set down her quill. " 'You can't help me anyway,' " she quoted. "Harry said that…"

"At dinner the other night," Ron interrupted, eyes trained on Hermione's face. "Yeah, I remember."

Hermione looked surprised but kept going. Ginny knew HER eyebrows were currently having a nice one-on-one with her hairline. "Well, what if THAT'S the prophecy?" she said. "That we can't help him, he has to do it himself."

"The Boy-Who-Lived stopped Voldemort once," Ginny said grimly. "And now he has to do it again."

Somewhat to her surprise, Ron didn't get all huffy and mad. Instead, he sat back and considered for a moment, before sighing. "Yeah," he said, "that's pretty much what I figured, too."

Hermione's jaw dropped briefly, before she started looking pissed off. "You figured that? And just how long have you figured that and you didn't tell me?"

Ron looked immediately uneasy and held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa, it was at dinner, when he said that, ok? It just kinda clicked for me… that maybe he meant it different than I thought."

Hermione was still glaring. "And you didn't tell me?"

Ron looked guilty. "I was gonna… but Harry was really happy about Quiddich, y'know? And I wasn't really sure yet, and I didn't want to get into anything with him, especially if it was something we couldn't do anything about. I mean, we can't exactly change a prophesy."

Hermione mumbled something, before letting out a breath of frustration. "Yeah, you're right," she said, sounding grumpy. "I just wish you'd mentioned this to me before, and saved us a night of sneaking into the library."

Ron grinned suddenly. "You snuck into the library last night? Is that why you looked so tired?" he said. His teeth flashed in a smirk. "Uh-oh, the Head Girl was out committing an infraction…"

Ginny rolled her eyes and threw her own quill at his head. "Shut up," she told him, somewhat concerned that Hermione might hex her brother. Not that he hadn't done ample things in the past to deserve it, she just didn't want to watch right now. "Anyway, what about Harry taking Occlumency again? I thought Dumbledore had given up on the idea."

"Apparently not," Ron said, looking sour. "And with Snape again, no less."

Hermione was apparently no longer fuming. "Dumbledore always has a reason," she said. "We may not know what it is, but he's always got a reason."

"It may not be that great of a reason," Ginny said sourly. "After all, Harry's been pissed at him for a good year, remember?"

"Like working with Snape will make that better," Ron said with a sigh. "What's he think, that Harry and the old bat are going to bond over mind melds?"

Hermione giggled, and then slapped a hand over her mouth when both Ron and Ginny gave her funny looks. "What?" she said.

"Uh, I missed the funny part…" Ginny said curiously.

"I didn't know you guys were big trekkies," Hermione grinned. The grin faltered as both Weasleys gave her blank looks. "No? But that's where the words are from, 'mind meld'…"

Ron scratched his head. "Actually, it's when one wizard swaps brains with another one, usually right before the one dies. Kind of adds on what the dead guy knew to the live one."

Hermione was staring at him. "Oh, for the love of…" she muttered. "Never mind." She closed her books with a decisive snap. "I'm going to bed. Thanks to someone's brainstorm, I was up all night reading about the first three years of Mr. Potter's life as a garden gnome and I'm very tired."

Ron looked bewildered as Hermione headed away from the table. "Huh?" he said.

Ginny gave him a pitying look and leaned over to pat her brother on the arm. "Don't worry, Ronnie, you really don't want to know," she said.

$$$$$$$$$$

Harry approached Friday evening with a great deal of reluctance. He was in no hurry to begin spending his evening with bloody Snape. Who seemed to be out to get him in Potions, his wife's presence or not. The last class, Harry had lost five points for breathing too loudly, Snape claiming he was disrupting the flames of his table partner. Even said table partner, frickin' Malfoy, had thought that one was rather humorous.

And who wanted to rush through the first week of quiddich practice? That first day, Harry'd gotten out to the pitch early and had kicked off, soaring up so high that the castle had started to dwindle below him. Then he'd turned his broom about and plummeted straight for the ground. The wind had screamed through his ears and he'd been going so fast he could barely keep his eyes open. He'd pulled up with feet to spare and proceeded to race about the pitch, a dopy grin plastered all over his face and probably a few bugs caught in his teeth as a result.

And now, here he was, glumly approaching the dungeon classroom with very heavy feet. A whole hour. Just him and Snape. Whoopdedoo.

Harry paused outside the door and stared at it for a moment. Why the bloody hell was Dumbledore bringing this back up again? He wondered for the billionth time that week. He'd let it go all last year, much to Harry's relief. Why the blazes was it coming back now?

He heaved a sigh and bracing himself, pushed the heavy wooden door open. "You're late, Potter," came to greet him from the dark depths of the empty classroom.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Sorry, sir," he said, not meaning it at all. Like I want to be on time for you, you old bat, he thought as he came in and found himself a chair.

He didn't see Snape in the room, but the door to his office was open, so Harry sat and waited. Sure enough, the billowy black robes of the Potion Master soon swished through the office door. Snape strode over and dropped into his desk chair. The professor glared at him.

"If I am to waste my evenings once again attempting to teach you to guard your mind, you will be prompt, Mr. Potter," the Potion Master said in a silky tone. The exact one that usually pissed Harry off.

Harry bared his teeth in a grimace of a smile. "Sorry, sir," he said again.

Snape stared at him, eyes black and glittery. "Very well," he said. "Let us see if you have managed to forget _everything_ I tried to teach you. _Legilimens_!"

Harry was caught completely off guard as Snape shot the spell at him. He instinctively ducked, a reflex now after working with the dummies in the Room of Requirement. Half the time, ducking was as good as a shield spell and took a whole lot less energy. But instead, he felt a sudden sensation as if someone was attempting to hold his head while wearing thick mittens.

Then the sensation stopped, and Snape was sitting staring at him. "That was not what I taught you, Potter," said the dark man in a tight voice. "_Legilimens_!"

The sensation happened again, except this time, Harry wasn't quite as unprepared. The mittens only lasted a split second, and then he felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. Trying not to smile, he gave the rather angry looking Potion Master an inquiring look.

Snape muttered something under his breath, and then fixed his eyes on Harry's. Fine, so that's how he wants to play it, Harry thought, staring right back. Let's go fishing…

Breaking into Snape's thoughts was a whole lot more difficult than, say, Dean's. It was as if Harry was feeling around a wall in the dark, trying to find a doorknob. But find one, he did, and was just opening the door when Snape's eye got very wide and he abruptly stood, breaking the eye contact.

"What are you doing, Potter?" the man demanded angrily. "What spell is it, and where did you get it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, professor," Harry lied, unable to keep the smug mockery completely from his voice. "But I guess you can report back to the Headmaster that these lessons are really unnecessary."

For some reason, that made Snape's eyes narrow and take a few steps closer, studying Harry once more. "No, Potter," he said softly. "I don't believe I will." The Potion Master stood straight and tall, robes black and blending with the shadows behind him as Harry was studied. "You will report to me tomorrow night," Snape said. "And you will have some answers."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. After all, he had to take a class with the git, and this particular git already wasn't inclined to be kind to his grades. "Yes, sir," he said, in as cool a voice as he could. "May I go?"

Snape didn't move. "Go." As Harry headed for the door, he could still feel eyes boring into the back of his skull. Unable to resist, he flicked a finger in the direction of the fireplace and sent the place plummeting into total darkness as the door closed behind him.

$$$$$$$$$$

Ron was in top form that night, moaning and groaning about how Hermione was making him do so much bloody homework, on top of those long quiddich practices that SOME psychotic captain was putting the poor innocent team through…

Harry finally gave up and retreated to his bed, pulling the curtains shut and flopping back with a nice silencing charm in place. Merlin, the guy could be irritating, he thought with a wry grimace. He was quite sure that was exactly what Ron intended to do.

Harry yawned. He was tired. Quiddich WAS long practices, especially since Harry couldn't just zoom around looking for the snitch anymore. Now he had to actually get involved with the rest of the game, run plays, drills… he had to settle stupid little bickering fights between Ron and Ginny and coax his beaters into actually trying to hit him with those bloody bludgers…

He drifted off to sleep, relaxed and weary, and thus unprepared.

_Harry stirred as he heard footsteps in the dark and quiet dorm. He glanced to the side, seeing his curtains were open. Hadn't he drawn them before bed, he wondered. And why did it look like all the other beds were empty…_

_The steps paused, and Harry waited, still drowsy. Who could it be?_

_The moonlight slipped over a bright head, her hair glimmering like the fire that still burned low in the common room. "Shh…" she whispered when she saw his eyes were open._

_Harry didn't move, didn't breath as she climbed up onto his bed, those slim, pale legs bared beneath the nightshirt she wore. If he laid his hand on her ankle, he thought, and slid it slowly up, would he find anything in his way?_

_Her weight settled comfortably, familiarly over him, as if they'd done this a thousand times before. She leaned forward, bracing her arms on either side of his head. "Shh…" she whispered again, before leaning down._

_Her lips sank into his, and it was all Harry could do to stay still, his hands fisted in the bedclothes. He wanted to devour, to inhale, to swallow her whole. Instead he let her tease and taunt, mouths and tongues barely brushing, his body growing tauter and tauter by the second._

_"Harry…" she whispered against his lips, and he'd had enough. _

_He lifted his hands, wrapping them around her waist, resenting the nightshirt that kept her skin from him. With a low growl that he didn't even know came from his throat, he flipped them, landing her on her back with a quick gasp. Those dark eyes gazed up at him from his pillow, huge in the middle of that porcelain-fair face. Her hair tumbled wildly against the white linen, vibrant and so beautifully alive in the night. _

_"Harry," she whispered once more, this time gazing up at him, her eyes full of longing. She arched her back as he traced a long, hot line down her cheek, her throat, reaching for the first button and slipping it through the hole._

_"Ginny," he whispered back, voice thick as that smooth, silky skin slid beneath his fingers as cotton fell away. "Ginny…"_

Harry jerked away, breathing hard. His hands were fisted in the sheets, body as hard as if the dream had been real. He glanced about quickly to see that his curtains were still drawn, and then let out a shuddering sigh.

He had to stop those dreams, he told himself, shakily wiping his face with tense hands. He couldn't keep wanting like this and denying the real thing existed. He had to just… sleep.

Deliberately, carefully, Harry forced his mind to a complete blankness. No thoughts of red hair, smooth skin or long pale legs was allowed. Finally, finally, his body began to relax and he let himself slide back into slumber. This time, he hoped, to avoid dreams.

$$$$$$$$$$

**Mrs.SakuraPotter** – Your wish is my command. (bowing) lol.

**Padfoot**** Is ALIVE** – Ok…

**Kyntor** – AHAH!! You get the cookie this round, my friend! I was wondering if anyone would pick up on that… As for answers, you'll just have to see. Bwahahahahah…

**Maria, Moonglaze, MetroDweller** – They are smart girls, aren't they? Lol. I think Harry better start keeping that in mind.

**Shahrezad1** – (looking sheepish) Yeah, well… I really had no clue how much quiddich practice to do. I kinda went with what a high school football team might do… maybe… if they were run by an insane dictator which it is always possible Harry might turn into…

**Child-of-scorpio** – I hope you found some stories… really that's how I find half of mine, is wandering through author profiles and favorite stories.

**Crookshanx, java** – Thank you, thank you very much! Keep reading and reviewing!

And last but not least…

**Ferggirl99** – Who are you calling a lug of a sister, you squirt, you? (Yes, gentle readers, this IS truly my sister, so I can call her all the names I want) Addressing your points: I can kill whoever I want. So there. (Sticking out tongue) Actually, I use the interpretation of the prophecy that says essentially "kill or be killed". It may be the more dramatic theory, but it works for me. And Bellatrix… See "Undercurrents," story #2 in this series. It's a Draco-OC tale.


	9. No Secret is Safe

Chapter 8

Severus Snape was in a foul, foul mood. Not only did he have to spend time with that damned Potter, once again attempting to teach the boy to guard his mind, it now appeared that the bloody nuisance had come up with something completely unfamiliar in order to block him. Snape scowled. He didn't know what the devil Potter had done, but it had been like trying to find a chink in a brick wall. And then there had been the bizarre twist of Potter managing to invade HIS mind!

Which now meant that he was forced to go to Dumbledore, Snape grumbled mentally. To talk about Potter. Bloody hell, could his day get any worse.

Snape rapped on the office door and heard the old man's voice call cheerfully, "Come in Severus!" He opened the door and saw the Headmaster behind his desk, looking benignly serious and Professor McGonagall perched in an armchair in front. Great, just great. Apparently the day _could_ get worse.

"I can come back, I have no reason to interrupt," Severus began to say smoothly, trying to extricated himself from a bloody three-way teacher's meeting.

Dumbledore stopped him, however, by shaking his head. "No, no, come in," he said. "I suspect you're here about the same thing Minerva is."

Snape couldn't resist getting a dig in. "Your lack of a quiddich team?" he asked silkily.

McGonagall sniffed at him. "I'M not the one who had to replace more than half my team this year," she said.

The Headmaster chuckled and shook his head. "Please, my friends, if we start this debate, it may never end. Severus," he waved at the other chair. "Please, sit. We were just discussing Mr. Potter."

Severus grumbled under his breath. "What gives you the notion that I wish to discuss that annoying boy?" he said, even as he reluctantly sat.

Dumbledore tilted his head. "You had a session with him last night, correct?"

Snape humphed. Bloody annoying old man. Dumbledore merely nodded. "Minerva, you were about to say…" he said, looking back at the other Head of House.

McGonagall sighed. "I believed I was mistaken for several days, but lately I've taken to observing Mr. Potter during class, clandestinely, of course. And it's not my imagination, Albus," she said, spreading her hands, "his spell work has changed dramatically."

Severus narrowed his eyes. This might have something to do with him, after all… "How so?" he asked, leaning forward.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "I have observed that Mr. Potter appears to be, well, deliberately performing the spells incorrectly, until usually about half the students have accomplished whatever it is we are trying. Then he will suddenly have the most perfect example in the class." She looked at Dumbledore again. "Why, yesterday, we were working on cross-gender self-transfiguration, and I promise you, I watched him deliberately make mistake after mistake until suddenly, toward the end of the period, there was a perfect little girl standing where Harry used to be." She frowned. "There were none of the usual mistakes, _none_. It was better work than I've seen from a student in decades."

Severus contemplated this. Hmm… he thought.

Albus sighed. "Professor Flitwick has been so kind as to mention something similar to me," he said. "He also feels that Harry is holding back, hiding what he can do." Now the old man's eyes turned to Snape. "Severus, what do you think?"

Snape thought quickly. There was something strange going on, here… "Potter doesn't need Occlumency lessons," he said abruptly, making a snap decision. "I couldn't get into his mind and he bloody well had mine laid out for the world to see." He scowled at Dumbledore without thought. "Something is not right," he muttered.

Professor McGonagall made a rather frustrated sound. "But _what_?" she asked. "What's going on with him, Albus? Has he said anything to you?"

Severus looked to the Headmaster as well, but to his surprise, found the blue eyes of the old man rather dimmed. "I am afraid Harry has not felt the need to confide in me for some time now," he said a little heavily. "Certain… events, and to a large extent, my actions, have left Mr. Potter more than a little angry at me."

"Great Merlin, what?" Snape asked, very surprised, and for that reason forgetting to stay quiet. It had to be something for the boy to loose his near-adoration of Dumbledore. Often he'd watched the trust and respect and yes, affection that would rise in those green eyes when Potter would look to the Headmaster. And it had been perfectly obvious to nearly anyone who looked that Dumbledore in turn had a definite favorite in the boy. Although, now that he thought of it, he hadn't seen such an expression in a while. Quite a while.

Professor Dumbledore looked rather old and sad now, and as someone who looked to him with a great deal of reluctant affection himself, it alarmed Snape. "I have not told you, Severus, of the prophecy," he said. Snape's eyebrows shot up. Prophecy? The one Voldemort had been after? They rose even farther as the Headmaster quietly recited the slow sentences of the prophecy. Dumbledore looked even older. "I related the entire prophecy to Harry after that ill-fated trip to the Department of Mysteries. He did not take the news well, and, I fear, blames me for wielding so much control over his life."

McGonagall sighed. "Albus, please, we've been over this, what else should you have done? Told an eleven year-old to start getting ready to destroy someone who we weren't even sure still existed?"

Snape sat back and pondered as the other woman went on. So that was it, he thought. A power Voldemort knew not… and kill or be killed.

A moment later, Severus stood abruptly. "I will be meeting with Mr. Potter once more tonight," he said, hardly even noticing that he was interrupting the other two's soft conversation. "With your permission, Headmaster, I will dispense with the need to keep doing so, as I feel it is a waste of time on both our parts."

The blue eyes that had so often twinkled at him in the past were serious and sober as they studied him. "If you feel that is the best course of action, Severus, then I trust your judgment," Dumbledore said.

Snape gave a curt nod and then swept from the room, frowning and thinking as he did. What to do with Mr. Potter?

$$$$$$$$$$

By unspoken agreement, the three of them had decided not to confront Harry just yet over what they'd figured out. Ginny rather thought it was because none of them wanted to loose that argument. Harry was just too good at waiting them all out and still saying nothing. It was one of his more annoying traits, she reflected. Kind of along with completely pushing her away, despite the fact that there could clearly be something between them…

Bad Ginny, she scolded herself as she headed for Potions. Thank Merlin she still had Professor Snape, the woman, as opposed to Professor Snape, the bat. She was really going to have to think about whether she wanted to take the NEWTS class next year.

Pushing the door open, she made her way to her usual spot next to Colin and set her things down. In front of her, Cara was carefully setting her supplies. That was another benefit of her best friend dating Draco Malfoy, she thought with a grin as she began to do the same. Draco had finally figured out a system that Cara followed like religion in Potions class. It wasn't foolproof, but there were a whole lot fewer exploding cauldrons thanks to it. As someone who was generally in the line of fire, Ginny appreciated that fact.

Cara turned around, setup routine complete and eyed Ginny. "Sooo…" she said, eyes speculative.

Ginny shot her a very confused look even as she shook her bottle of ink. Damn. She'd have to remember to fill it tonight, it was getting pretty low. "What?" she asked.

Cara grinned. "I heard something," she said. And she had that annoying smug tone that said it was something Ginny wasn't going to like.

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Spill it, McDouglas," she ordered, but before she could browbeat her friend any more, Professor Snape came limping in and cheerfully began to explain the day's lesson.

It wasn't until nearly a full hour later, Cara having made it through her careful order of procedure and now having set her timing charm (another handy idea of Draco's), that her friend turned back to her. By now, Ginny had managed to think of several possibilities for something that Cara would just love to taunt her about, none of them terribly pleasant.

"Well?" Ginny demanded crossly. "What'd you hear?"

Cara grinned like a cheshire cat. "I heard there was going to be a Hogsmead weekend next month," she said.

Ginny raised an eyebrow derisively as she measured out the crushed lacewings. Unlike _some_ people, she could talk and work at the same time. "So?" she answered. "We have those all the time."

Cara grinned bigger. "I also heard that the Head Boy and Girl were going to go together," she said.

Now Ginny frowned. "What, you mean on head business? That sucks," she said.

Cara chuckled. "According to my sources, the 'head business' was cooked up by certain other prefects who have on-going bets regarding the two people in question, so that they'd hopefully start making some progress toward a, ah, conclusion."

Ginny smirked. "Please, this IS my brother were talking about. He won't even admit it yet."

Cara carefully inspected her nails. "Well, I'll just say that you _might_ want to be around the vicinity of Zonko's at about two p.m. on the day in question, because a certain other prefect, a tall and handsome one who shall not yet be named, is going to attempt to jolt your thickskulled brother into waking up."

Now Ginny started to grin. "Ahh… I see. Well, I appreciate the heads up," she said, and nudged Colin next to her, who was listening with a speculative gleam in his eye. "Hear that, Colin? Two p.m., Zonko's."

"Why Ginny, darling, I don't know what I'll do with that information," Colin said virtuously. Ginny grinned bigger, knowing that Colin would be lying in wait with his famous camera for probably an hour before time, just in case.

She chuckled. "Great, now I'm going to be counting the days," she smirked.

"You might be counting them for another reason, as well," Cara said casually.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why?" Frankly, she was dying to see what else her friend had turned up. Damned if the girl wasn't better than the Daily Prophet.

Cara cleared her throat delicately. "Because as the Head Boy and Girl will be off doing their 'head' things, their best chum will be left… all alone…"

To Ginny's complete and total mortification, she didn't something she hadn't done in so long, and she'd been so proud off: she turned bright red, and then suddenly started to cry. "Oh, crap, I'm sorry, Gin, I'm sorry, please don't cry," Cara immediately exclaimed, looking panicked and wretched. It was all suddenly and totally overwhelming, the last year's worth of repressed feelings washed over her and she just wanted to sink into the floor and melt with her misery.

It was just a few tears, fortunately, but still… Ginny swiped at her eyes and sniffed. "Sorry… must have been dust," she lied pathetically.

Colin wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Yeah, it's pretty dusty back here," he said in a soothing tone. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sniffed. She had wonderful friends.

"Miss Weasley," came Professor Snape's voice from the front of the class, breaking into her moment of affection. "Would you see me for a moment after class, please?"

Oh, crap, Ginny thought. "Yes, ma'am," she said miserably. Damn, damn, double damn.

$$$$$$$$$$

As the bell rang and the rest of her class streamed out of the dungeon, Cara and Colin giving her sympathetic glances, Ginny slowly approached the front of the room where Professor Snape sat behind her desk.

Her teacher looked up at her and gave her a gentle smile. "Have a seat, Ginny," she said. Ginny sat. Crap, crap, crap. Crying in class. She did _not_ want to have this conversation.

"I wanted to ask you something," Professor Snape said, sitting forward. Ginny blinked. Okay…

"Yes, ma'am?" she said.

She was studied by a pair of dark eyes that seemed just a bit too knowing. "Tell me what's going on with Harry Potter," the Potion Mistress said.

Ginny's eyes got very big and she swallowed hard. "Ma'am," she managed to croak out after a second, "uh, I don't understand…"

She was treated to a gentle smile. "I watch certain students very carefully, Miss Weasley," Professor Snape said softly. "And one thing I've noticed is that Mr. Potter is not quite… right."

"H-how do you mean?" Ginny asked, praying she could come up with something.

The small, dark woman tilted her head. "I think you know," she said.

Ginny swallowed. "Well, professor, I…" she took a deep breath and couldn't believe she was about to say this to a professor, "I don't really think it's any of your business about Harry. And especially asking me to tell you." And then she waited for something really bad to happen, maybe lightning or a particularly nasty hex.

Instead, Professor Snape just smiled, one that seemed to be a bit smug and quite satisfied. "Quite right, Ginny. Then I'd just like to give you a piece of advice, if I may."

"Yes ma'am," Ginny said, feeling almost dizzy with relief that she wasn't currently chopped up and being boiled in one of the extra-large cauldrons along the wall.

"Sometimes, the strongest men forget that they are not alone," the Potion Mistress said quietly. "They forget that they do not have to face the world without someone at their back, without someone to hold their hand." Those dark eyes were far too keen now. "And sometimes, they have to be shown that fact, over and over until they understand."

Ginny's mouth opened and then closed. "Ma'am?" she said, flabberghasted and more than a little disconcerted. And horrified.

"Frankly, my advice is to get him alone as often as you can and kiss him," Professor Snape said, a dreamy look coming into her eyes. "It certainly worked for me."

Ginny's mouth worked blankly for a moment, before she managed a weak, "May I go, professor?"

She was treated to a dazzling grin, and a waving hand, and then somehow found herself heading into the Great Hall and dropping into the empty seat at Cara's side.

"Well?" her friend asked warily. "How did it go?"

Ginny stared at her, and then shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it," she muttered.

$$$$$$$$$$

To all my reviewers: WOW!! Look at all those reviews! I'm feeling positively inspired. In fact, I might try to get another chapter up tomorrow, just because you all pressed that little button…


	10. What a Girl's Gotta Do

Wow!! I had ten reviews by the time I woke up this morning. I guess that means you all get that second chapter I was bribing you with…

Oh, and responses to reviews are at the bottom. Thanks!!

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Chapter 9

After that particularly disturbing discussion with Professor Snape, Ginny did _not_ feel like doing homework. Instead of working on her Charms essay like the good little student she usually was, she dug through her drawers (and Cara's) and finally came up with something more appealing. Nail polish.

Ginny held one of the little bottles up to the light and smiled as the color inside shimmered. Perfect. A nice, girly distraction that you had to concentrate on in order to keep from making a huge mess. She was rummaging for those little toe-thingees that Cara had to keep your toes separate when the door opened, and the girl in question came in.

"Hey, who said you could go through my things?" Cara demanded, setting her hands on her hips and glaring.

"You did," Ginny said over her shoulder.

Cara considered for a moment. "Oh yeah," she said, and then flopped down on Ginny's bed. "Hey, nails? That sounds like fun. Maybe I'll do mine, too."

Ginny had her head inside Diana's trunk now, trying to find that nice shade of pink that made her skin look nice and glowy… "Ahhah!" she exclaimed as she plucked the bottle from the inside of a shoe. She pulled her head out of the trunk and tossed the bottle at Cara. "You're doing yours?" she said.

Cara wrinkled her nose. "Yeah. I think it's time for a break from schoolwork. I mean, we've been back two weeks, and haven't had a girl party yet."

Ginny grinned. "We should have one tonight." Cara raised an eyebrow. "Seriously. It's Saturday night, there's no classes tomorrow, we can nick some food from the kitchens and get a whole bunch of girls in here."

Cara grinned. "Slumber party!" she squealed, bouncing on the bed.

Ginny raised an eyebrow and smirked. "How old are you, five?" she teased. "Come on, lets go find ourselves some fellow female Gryffindors."

$$$$$$$$$$

Harry was not at all pleased to be going back down to the dungeons. It was a Saturday night, and he'd far rather be loosing a game of chess to Ron than spending more time with the Cranky Old Bat. Although right before he'd left, Ginny and Cara had come sweeping down from the girls dorms, sputtering something about a slumber party and had whisked Hermione and pretty much every girl fourth year and up into their room. The sounds coming down the stairs had been intimidating, to say the least. Harry shivered. That many girls, giggling, was never a comforting sound.

He glumly pushed the classroom door open and stepped inside. Once again, the room was on the dark side. The better to ambush you, he thought with a twist of his lips.

"Mr. Potter. Finally on time, I see," came the low silky tones of the Potion Master from the corner of the room.

Harry nodded his head and dropped into a seat. Let's just get this over with, he thought with a sigh.

Snape seemed to be taking his time, however. "Tell me something, Potter," he said, as he leisurely made his way to his desk.

"Sir?" Harry asked, raising one eyebrow when the question didn't come.

Snape surveyed him with rather enigmatic, probing eyes, and sat in a swoosh of black robes. "How is it you are not dead yet?"

Harry blinked. Well, that wasn't out of the blue or anything. "I'm sorry sir," he said, biting down the impatience.

Snape sneered at him. "You should have been dead any number of times in your life. When you first defeated Voldemort. Your first year of school. Your second. Every year since then. How is it you've managed to stay alive throughout it all?"

Harry gaped a little before he remembered just who this was, asking him. "I'm sorry, I can't explain it sir," he said and couldn't resist adding a sarcastic, "sorry to have disappointed you."

"Hmm." Snape was steepling his finger now, face impassive. "You are an arrogant fool, Potter," he said. His voice was remarkably calm, considering the words.

Harry tried not to bite his tongue as he gritted his teeth. He didn't say anything.

Snape went on. "Did you imagine you could hide your changing skills from your professors? Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick have been teaching for decades. They've seen every trick in the book, Potter, and your piddly attempts to hide your abilities are nothing new." Snape's voice was becoming taunting. "And your little trick last night with the fire? Really, that was just showing off. Not the wisest decision if you're trying to hide. "

Harry was really having to hold onto his temper as Snape snorted. "But then, what else should I expect from the great Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived? I do believe you're believing your own hype, you overconfident Gryffindor twit. Do you really think that you're going to win this war all by yourself?" Snape was standing now, voice a menacing rumble as he stalked to lean over Harry's desk. "Can you possibly be so big headed as to think that you're the only thing that will save the world from the Dark Lord, that you're that important?"

Harry finally couldn't take it anymore. He'd been hanging on to his temper by a thread from the moment he'd sat down, and now Snape was towering over him as if he was some kind of god?

"Enough!" Harry gritted out, and let loose. He let some of that tightly wound magical energy free, and Snape went staggering back a few feet. Harry got to his feet slowly, still fighting to stay in control. He'd have to go to the Room of Requirement and beat the crap out of some dummies before he went back to the common room. "Are we done, Professor?" he said through his teeth as the Potion Master straightened up.

"Oh, no, Potter," the older man said softly, eyes glowing weirdly in the firelight. "We're just beginning." Part of Harry wanted to just walk away, the other part wanted to stay and get the chance to perhaps knock Snape's block off. Potions grade be damned.

Snape leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms. "Do you know why I got married, Potter?" he said.

Harry blinked. _Okay_, that was weird. He shook his head, more than a little disoriented at the abrupt and complete change of subject. "What?" he said, still struggling with containing the pulsing magic that his anger had brought on.

Snape's face was eerily serious. "Why I married, Potter. Keep up, even with your dim brain. Do you know why?"

Harry was still completely thrown by the topic of conversation. And that he was having it with _Snape_, of all people. "No," he managed.

Snape tilted his head, eyes boring into Harry. "Because one cannot face the world alone and win," he said.

"And you'd rather take other people down with you?" Harry said sarcastically, the words slipping out beside himself. "Other people who matter?"

And then Snape smirked. "You've got that backwards," he said. "No great surprise, I suppose." He straightened and leaned close, until he was right in Harry's face. "They are the ones that keep you from falling." And then he nodded at the door. "Now get out. I won't expect to see you again until class." And with that, the man simply walked away.

Harry was left standing, struggling with what he wanted to shout and with what that cold voice had drawled at him. Finally, he managed a deep breath, and some semblance of calm. Magic and emotion still roiled within him, but he figured he could handle a chess game with Ron, at least.

Harry turned and headed for the door. As he strode through the quiet halls, his footsteps ringing against the stone, Snape's words echoed in his head. _Do you really think that you're going to win this war all by yourself… one cannot face the world alone and win… They are the ones that keep you from falling_.

Harry growled softly to himself. Bloody Snape. What was he playing at? He reached the Fat Lady, and had to pause a moment to shove it all down, out of site and into one corner. He let out a breath. "Hornswaggle," he told her in a nearly normal voice, and stepped inside.

$$$$$$$$$$

The sixth year girls dormitory was nearly overflowing with girls in their pajamas. Ginny was ensconced on her bed, doing Hermione's toes a lovely shade of pink, while Hermione returned the favor with a purple polish.

Cara leaned over from her spot on the nearby floor. "So Gin, are you ever going to tell us what happened after Potions?" she asked.

Hermione looked up from her careful brushstrokes. "Something happened?" asked the Head Girl.

Ginny groaned. "I don't want to talk about it," she mumbled.

"Too bad," Diana said cheerfully from the other side. "This is Girls's Night. There are no secrets." Pavarati and Lavender gave a ragged cheer from Diana's bed, where their faces were currently covered in a rather frightening green paste.

"It was nothing, Professor Snape just wanted to talk to me," Ginny mumbled, hoping to dodge the question. Because she was fairly sure there were enough people in the room to hold her down and force it out of her, if they decided to do so.

Hermione arched one eyebrow. "About what?" she asked sweetly.

Ginny tried pouting, but it didn't work. It usually didn't on girls, it was the boys that she could get to back off with the glare or the pout. After all, she'd been using it on her brothers for years. She finally caved, realizing that they probably wouldn't give up, and that she was risking rather embarrassing injury given the number of spells the people in the room knew.

"Fine, she wanted to know about Harry," Ginny said, rather glumly.

Hermione looked up again and frowned. "What did she want to know?" she asked, rather sharply. "And why was she asking you, not him?"

"That's what I said," Ginny said quickly. "Well, I said it really nicely and didn't get hexed or anything." And then her face turned beet red and she once again wished she didn't have a redhead's complexion.

"Ahhah, I know that look," Cara said craftily, now doing a fourth-year's nails bright red. "Come on, spill, what happened next."

"Uhh…" Ginny really wished she could run for the bathroom, but Hermione had a good tight grip on her foot. Besides, she might smudge the polish on her toes. She sighed. "Shetoldmetocornerhimandkisshim," she muttered really fast.

It was almost comical the way all activity in the room came to a complete halt. So much for hoping that no one had heard her. "A teacher? Told you to _kiss_ Harry?" Hermione said, sounding stunned.

"Wow," breathed Diana. "I knew Professor Snape was cool, but… _Wow_."

A wave of chatter broke out then, and Ginny once again contemplated the bathroom. Surely she could make it running on her heels, although she wouldn't be able to move that fast…

"Ladies, LADIES!" Cara's voice cut over the noise. "This is serious. This situation now calls for action." All eyes turned on Ginny again. "So what are you going to do, Gin?"

Ginny gaped at Cara. "What am I going to… what are you, nuts? Have you _seen_ Harry this year? He has no interest in me, in fact, he goes out of his way to make that point. The guy doesn't even pat me on the back anymore." She capped the pink polish with an angry twist. "He's so damn 'I can't let anyone close to me', it's like he's trying to be the worlds oldest male virgin."

Lavender and Pavarati giggled at that, and even Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry's… in denial," the Head Girl finally decided on. "And I bet there was something else Professor Snape said, along with just kissing him."

Dammit, this was why Hermione was Head Girl. She knew too much. Ginny narrowed her eyes. "You don't happen to have my pair of extendable ears, do you?" she demanded.

Hermione smirked. "No. And quit stalling."

Ginny sighed, suddenly more than a little depressed again, and sat back against her pillows. "She said that strong men need to be reminded that they're not alone, and that they don't have to do everything themselves." Heads nodded solemnly.

"Hello, can I say 'Draco Malfoy'?" Cara said from her spot on the floor. "Merlin, getting that boy to admit he needed a friend was worse than skinning flobberworms." A couple of fourth years immediately let out a chorus of 'ews', and Cara ignored them. "And that whole mess last year, with Bellatrix… I won't tell you how many times I had to tell him, I wasn't letting him face things alone."

"I never heard that story…" started Lavender.

Cara waved her hand. "Yeah, remind me another time. Anyway. The point is, she's _right_, Gin. Harry's a guy. A particularly important wizard, a particularly smart and talented one, and he's spent pretty much his whole life having to take care of things himself." She looked at Hermione. "Right?"

Hermione nodded. "Pretty much. I mean, before Hogwarts, he was with those awful Dursleys, and you _know_ they didn't care about him, and even here at school with Ron and I, Harry's always taken most of the responsibility for things. He blames himself when things go wrong, and thinks someone else should get the credit when they go right." Hermione sighed. "He's really the most annoyingly noble boy alive," she grumbled. "Sometimes it's a pain in the ass."

Dead silence greeted her words. She looked around the room. "What?" Then Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, get over it. I've been friends with Ron for seven years, you think I don't slip sometimes?"

Ginny smiled a little. "What I'm worried about is that Harry will cut us all out if I try," she said quietly. This was her biggest fear, her biggest worry. "I know Draco tried to do that to you, Cara, but lets face it, Harry would cut off his wand arm if he thought it would make people safer."

Hermione leaned forward. "Ginny," her friend said quietly. "Harry _cares_. Can't you see that?"

She shook her head slowly. "I just don't think it's enough," she said quietly.

Cara snorted rudely. "Bull," she said rudely. "Honest to god, Gin, you're an idiot. You're so used to your brothers telling you it's a silly crush that you're believing it." Her eyes lit up with a gleam. "I'll tell you what. You go downstairs, just like you are, and walk up to Harry and kiss him. And then see what he does."

Ginny's jaw dropped. "Are you _mad_?" she said in a horrified voice. She looked down. "I'm not going down there like this!" Her pajamas were far too skimpy, and her toes were still wet, and dammit, she wasn't going to just throw herself at Harry Potter and lose!

Hermione pulled out her want from her bun of hair, and did a little swish-flick, taking care of one of Ginny's unvoiced excuses. "There, your toes are dry," she said. Then she crossed her arms and eyed Ginny. "I really think you should do it," her _former_ friend said.

"Are you MAD?" Ginny shrieked, scrambling up on her knees. "Do you know how much I'll hurt when he pushes me away? Do _any_ of you have any idea what it's like to love someone for years, YEARS, and know that they're never going to love you back? I'm not going down there, I'm not kissing him, and dammit, stop trying to make me!"

There was dead silence for a moment, and then Diana sighed glumly. "Well, I owe you three galleons, Cara," she said. "You were right, she _is_ in love."

Ginny stared at her. "You don't get it," she said, getting a tight throat. "It's bad enough that he won't even touch me as a friend, right now. If I go down there and kiss him, he'll completely push me away, and it'll be ten times worse."

Cara got up and came over to wrap an arm around Ginny's shoulders. "I know," she said quietly. "But Gin, if you don't make the moves, if you don't teach him exactly what it is he needs, then he'll never know."

Hermione suddenly spoke up from her other side. "I'll make a deal with you, Ginny," she said, face a little pale, but eyes determined. Ginny looked over at her. "You will teach Harry. And I," she gulped a little. "I'll start teaching Ron."

Lavender squealed at that. "Oh, this is great!" Everyone else was still glued to Ginny and Hermione, who were looking at each other with one fearful face, and one determined one.

"Do you really think this will work?" Ginny said quietly to Hermione.

Her friend lifted her hands in the air. "I don't know," she said quietly. "But I've realized this, if we keep waiting, we'll never know. And if I never know how it can be," she paused, "I'm going to regret it the rest of my life," she finished softly. She reached over and grabbed Ginny's hand. "We need them," she said. "And they need us, whether they realize it or not. And that's really all that matters."

Pavarati and Diana were sniffling, Ginny dimly realized. Cara was still sitting with her arm tight around her shoulders. Ginny looked at Hermione, and their gazed locked for what had to be a very long minute.

Finally Ginny let out a shuddering breath. "Dammit," she said. "Dammit, dammit. Why are boys so dumb?"

"All the blood goes to their little head," some fourth year supplied, and was treated to a round of nervous giggles, everyone else still concentrating on the scene on the bed.

Ginny closed her eyes and swallowed. Harry needed his friends. He needed to be loved, he needed to know that he was never going to be alone in his fight. She opened her eyes again, and this time, matched Hermione's look of determination. "You're right," she said quietly. "You're right."

There was a chorus of squeals and babbling voices, but Ginny ignored them and leaned close to Hermione. "So the plan is to chase them down, tie them up, and snog them to death?" she asked.

Hermione giggled, blushing a little. "Have you got a better idea?" she asked.

Ginny grinned, feeling lighter than she had in months. "Nope," she said. "Sounds good to me."

$$$$$$$$$$

Harry had settled himself into a nice game of chess with Ron, and was already off to a loosing start. He scratched his head. "How did you manage to take my queen, three moves in?" he asked.

Ron grinned cheekily. "I'm bloody brilliant, that's how." He grinned even bigger as he sent his bishop to decapitate Harry's knight. "I think this'll be a short game."

Dean wandered over and dropped down to sit on the arm of the couch next to Harry. "I dunno, mates, it's awfully quiet up there," he said in a worried voice.

Harry looked at him, a bit confused. "Huh?"

Dean nodded at the girls staircase. "Up there. It got quiet about fifteen minutes ago, and that's really starting to scare me."

Ron paused and looked at the girls stair as well. "You're right," he said, brow furrowing. "They were making a whole lot of noise before, Harry, and right before you got back, it got really quiet." He shook his head. "It's never a good thing when girls get quiet."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe someone's telling a ghost story." Heads turned and looked at him. "What? Isn't that something girls do?"

Dean heaved a sigh. "I just hope that's all it is," he said glumly. Just then, there was a wave of female squeals and voices yacking and Ron heaved a sigh.

"I don't know if I'm relieved, or more scared," he said, motioning for Harry to make a move.

Harry was down another knight, a bishop and three pawns when the sound of feet made him and Ron look up. His jaw promptly dropped despite himself. Ginny and Hermione were stalking down the stairs and straight for them, determined looks on their faces and wearing… he tried rather unsuccessfully to jerk his eyes back up, and got a tighter grip on that dark spot he'd shoved away earlier.

"Uh, Hermione?" Ron was saying in a rather dazed voice, eyes wide and looking completely bewildered. "Did you know you're in your…"

SMACK! Hermione slapped him across the face. "That's for being an idiot," she told him. Ron was still staring dumbly at her, a shocked look on his face. Then she reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked. Harry's jaw about hit the floor, along with every other person in the room as the Head Girl proceeded to snog the living daylights out of the Head Boy, who was standing there rather dumbly.

Hermione finally stepped back, leaving Ron looking even more confused, and even more aroused, Harry thought with a grin. She pointed a finger. "You think about that," she ordered. And then spun on her heel and stalked back toward the staircase.

Harry was still grinning at his gobsmacked friend, when there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned back and looked straight down at Ginny. A wave of last night's leftover lust from his dream ran over him and it was with great difficulty that he pushed it away. "Yes?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as coolly as he could. Don't look down from her face, don't look down from her face, he mentally chanted. There was just so much skin showing…

Ginny was giving him a look, one that he wasn't quiet sure of. "You're an even bigger idiot," she said. "In fact, probably the biggest one in the school." And then Harry was grabbed and yanked down as well, two soft lips smashing into his and kissing him with the ferociousness of a ruffled kitten. Harry had to clench his fists to not put his hands on her, to not bury his hands in her hair, to keep his fingers from trailing to those silky, scented places he'd dreamed about.

And then he was shoved backward, and Ginny was pointing a finger at him. "I'm not letting you run, anymore, Potter," she said fiercely. "I'm tired of it. You're going to wake up and realize that you're not in this alone, and if you try to be, I'll tie you up, feed you to the Great Squid, and then dance on your grave."

And then she was stomping back off after Hemione, and he and Ron were left to stand and stare after them in the dead silent common room.

The quiet was finally broken by Seamus clearing his throat. "Right then," he said, reaching into his pocket. "I've got the list, time to settle all bets, people."

As the room started to buzz around them with students exchanging coins and chattering excitedly, Harry turned back to Ron to find his friend staring at him with bug eyes.

"What just happened?" Ron asked in a croaky voice.

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it. He licked his lips. Shit. He could still taste her, like strawberries and cinnamon. Sweet and spice.

Ron sat a little heavily. "We are so screwed," he said.

Harry swallowed. "Yeah," he said.

$$$$$$$$$$

**MrsSakuraPotter** – "Mrs. Snape" is Sonora Stone, now Sonora Snape. See my story "Hidden Intents" for her and our favorite Potion Master's story.

**Edril** – Thanks! You may have noticed I fixed that little detail…

**Child-of-scorpio** – (holding out hand) Ahem. Cookies, please?

**Ferggirl99** – Damn straight. I'm guilting you into writing more. Heh heh heh. And don't worry about Ronniekins, as you can see, he's about to get his…

**SweetDevil623, gallandro-83, Crookshanx, hawkeye, MusicMonkey88, A Harry and Ginny Dreamer, java, Shahrezad1, Moonglaze, vipera-veneficus, MetroDweller, obsessed87, cherryblossom08, Jlatmil1, ArianaEvans, Zoe, christophe** – I LOVE you guys! All those reviews, all that encouragement, all that curiosity and eagerness for my little story… This chapter's for you. (blowing kisses)


	11. Put Off Until Tomorrow

Chapter 10

It was about noon on Sunday, the day after the kiss, as Harry was thinking of it, that he realized just how screwed he was. He and Ron had slunk out of their dorm early and headed out to the quiddich pitch, silently agreeing that if any time called for a good fly, it was now. They'd spent a few hours out there, Harry borrowing a quaffle and a snitch from the supply closet, and the two of them tried scoring on the other, and chasing the little golden ball around. Not surprisingly, Harry couldn't get very many goals past Ron and Ron had yet to spot the snitch before Harry.

They were finally driven down to the ground, exhausted but quite a bit more cheerful, by Ron's stomach. "Right, lunch, then?" Ron asked as Harry re-locked the closet and shouldered his broom.

"Definitely," Harry agreed, his stomach giving an almighty rumble. Feeling amiable and content for the moment, the two of them strolled up toward the castle and the Great Hall.

It was when they walked into the Great Hall and headed for the Gryffindor table that Harry got his first clue. He was uncomfortably aware that nearly every eye in the room was on them.

"Bloody gossips, don't they have anything else to do…" Ron was muttering next to him, ears going red. Harry wasn't sure if it was temper or embarrassment, and wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Let's just eat and get out," he muttered back, dropping down at the very end of the table, away from everyone.

It would have been a good plan, except that five minutes later, Ginny and Hermione came sashaying in. "Morning, boys," Hermione said with a smile. And a distinctly evil glint to her eyes that made Harry very, very nervous. Especially since Ginny was wearing an identical expression.

Ron immediately went beet red and mumbled back a greeting as he stared down at his plate. Hermione ignored this, and proceeded to seat herself next to Ron, after leaning down and dropping an oh-so-casual kiss on his cheek. Ron was chewing at that particular moment and happened to choke. Harry had to lean across the table and whack his friend on the back.

Meanwhile Ginny had used her time to her advantage and had seated herself next to Harry. Very close to him, in fact. He could feel her leg pressed against his, and could smell the clean smell of her soap. His entire body tensed as a result.

Hermione was helping herself to some shepherds pie. "Do you boys want to work on that Potions essay today?" she was asking, just as if it was an ordinary day. "I was planning on going to the library this afternoon to see if I could find anything else on ringworm skin." She shook her head and forked up a mouthful daintily. Harry couldn't help but notice that Ron was watching her out of the corner of his eye. Hermione swallowed and made a 'mmm' sound. "That's good," she said, and slowly slid the fork between her lips, as if she were trying to get every last bit off. Ron was shifting a bit uncomfortably on his side of the table, and Harry felt for him. He really did.

Right up until the moment when Ginny entered the fray once more. As if it wasn't enough that she was sitting practically in his lap, the unbelievably irritating and sexy redhead began to rub her foot up and down Harry's ankle. He jumped, caught off guard when she did, and jerked away, looking at her in disbelief.

Ginny just licked her spoon clean of jam and took a bite of her biscuit. "Problem, Harry?" she asked sweetly.

"Er," he mumbled, and tried to shovel his own breakfast down a little faster. He needed out of there.

And then she did it again, only this time, her foot slid halfway up his leg before he recovered his brains enough to move.

"Right, I'm off," he blurted, shoving back from the table and abandoning all pretense of eating.

"Aren't you hungry? You didn't even finish your lunch," Ginny asked with a smile. And that evil glint.

"You're leaving?" Ron was looking panicked.

"Sorry, got a meeting… thing… gotta go," Harry blurted and then bolted. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead. Yee gods, she was trying to kill him, he thought as he fled the scene. Not until he was safely in the Room of Requirement, practice dummy standing by and ready, did he let himself slump down and relax.

Harry groaned, leaning against the wall and slowly dropping down to the floor. He had a problem. A very big one. Out of the blue, Ginny had decided to force the issue by publicly trying to seduce him. Or something. And damn it all, no one was going to be able to miss the fact that she was doing a pretty good job. Harry cringed as he thought of all the talk that must be going on in the Great Hall that very minute. If there was one thing he truly hated, it was being the subject of gossip.

He thunked his head back against the stone wall a few times, ignoring the pain. He just wasn't good enough at hiding what he felt for Ginny. Which meant he either had to get a lot better, fast, or cut himself off from her entirely. He flashed to the sensation of her foot sliding slowly up his leg and shuddered.

Grimly he hauled himself to his feet. He needed a cold shower. Since that option was all the way back in the dorm, he'd settle for sheer physical exhaustion. Which given the morning's exercise, shouldn't take too long.

He shed outer layers, stripping down to pants and shirt. He flexed his fingers and stared at the dummy. "_Animatus_," he said, and dove to one side as red light sizzled by him.

$$$$$$$$$$

Sonora hummed tunelessly as she marked second year Ravenclaw essays. Lunch had been _quite_ amusing, she thought, smirking. Apparently not only had Miss Weasley decided to take her advice, she'd passed it on to Miss Granger. Sonora chuckled. My, had the Head Boy squirmed for that meal. She didn't even want to speculate on what his partner had been doing for that time, but judging from the color of Mr. Weasley's face, it had been a touch on the provocative side.

Severus came gliding through her office door at the point, and she looked up at him and smiled. "Something wrong?" she asked, noting the frown on his face.

Her husband scowled and dropped down into her spare chair. "Did you have something to do with the performance that went on this morning?" he asked.

Sonora resisted the urge to roll her eyes. No beating around the bush for _her_ man, no sirree. "I may have given Miss Weasley a word of advice or two on how to, ah, 'handle' a reluctant man," she said cheekily, grinning. That grin faded as his expression did not change, but instead became darker and more serious. "What, what is it?" she asked, setting down her quill.

"Blast it all," Severus muttered. "Harry Potter is the most wanted person in the world, Sonora," he said. "Voldemort and his minions will stop at nothing to destroy him. _Nothing_," he emphasized. "Potter, at least, recognizes the importance of keeping a safe distance," he said. "Idiot he may be, but he at least doesn't want to flaunt his weaknesses to his enemies."

Sonora stared at him, more than a little disturbed. "You're saying that Ginny Weasley is a target now," she said. Severus merely eyed her. She shook her head. "But she already was, Severus," she said. "Her family, the fact that she's friends with Harry anyway… why shouldn't she take that step? Love goes a long way toward making people stronger, you know."

There was a bare softening in his eyes, then, and he reached over to pick up her hand. "I know," he replied darkly. "But you do not truly understand how much the Dark Lord craves this. Any weakness, _any_, and Potter's chances lessen. Miss Weasley," he said softly, "no matter how much she wishes to help, no matter how much she may truly love him, is only going to make his life more difficult."

Sonora sat perfectly still, thinking, turning it over in her head, even as her fingers tightened around his and his thumb began to absently stroke the back of her hand. "I disagree," she finally said quietly. Severus sighed but she shook her head. "No, I hear what you are saying, my dear, and I fully understand your meaning. Mr. Potter is not a person to be envied. He has a war to fight, all on his own." Her mind flashed to what Severus had implied to her the other evening, after his meeting with Dumbledore.

"But wars can't be won by one person," she said quietly, looking at him. "They can't. And while it's noble of you, and he, to think that you can, it does the rest of us a great disservice." She leaned forward in her chair and brushed a kiss against the tip of his nose. "One way or another, love conquers all," she said quietly. "It truly does."

Severus' expression did not lighten, but became more brooding and dark. "I hope for all our sakes you are right," he said. "Because if you are wrong…" he did not finished.

Sonora squeezed his hand. "I am right," she said. And prayed that it was true.

$$$$$$$$$$

Ginny met up with Hermione to compare notes in the prefects bath that evening. The Head Girl was wearing a smirk that seemed to suit her very well. "Let's just say I've got your brother very nervous," she said with a satisfied smile.

Ginny grinned. "He's head over heals for you, Hermione, he just won't admit it."

Hermione blew out a breath, loosing the grin. "I have to admit, I'm more than a little nervous," she said, sitting down on the edge of the large, empty bathtub and dangling her feet over the side. "What if I completely ruin this, Ginny?"

Ginny sighed and joined her, staring down into the marble with a wistful look. "I know," she said morosely. "Although it was funny to see Harry bolt so fast from lunch." They looked at each other and smirked.

"What were you doing to him?" Hermione asked with a twinkle in her eyes. " I thought he was going to come out of his skin."

Ginny pursed her lips. "A little game of footsie," she said.

Hermione got a speculative look on her face. "I might have to try that myself," she said.

Ginny grinned, and then heaved herself back to her feet. "Well, I have to go track my man down now," she said, and held out a hand for Hermione. "He's very good at vanishing, you know. And this plan only works if I know where he is."

Hermione chuckled. "Not to worry. The Fat Lady told me this afternoon, in a very hushed voice, of course, that the portraits were completely on our side, and if we ever needed 'information'," she made little quotation motions in the air, "all we had to do was ask."

Ginny rubbed her hands. "Excellent," she said.

$$$$$$$$$$

Harry was nearly staggering with fatigue by the time he dragged himself through the portrait into the common room. He'd finally forced himself to quit only a half hour ago, as he was nearly light-headed with hunger and weariness. He'd made a detour to the kitchens and had consumed the packet of sandwiches, courtesy of Dobby, by the time he'd reached the tower.

"Hornswaggle," he said to the Fat Lady, holding himself upright through sheer will.

"My dear boy, you look dreadful," she exclaimed even as she swung open. "You should really see about…" The rest of what she was saying was cut off as Harry didn't even pause to listen. He didn't want advice from a portrait, he wanted a shower and sleep.

"Oi, Harry," came from the far corner, where he was fairly sure Ron was hiding behind Seamus and Dean, but Harry didn't stop. He just went straight for the stairs, concentrating on one foot in front of the other. Shower, bed, he repeated to himself.

And then there was a flurry of red hair and brown eyes in front of him. "Where have you been?" said their owner, brows drawn in a worried look. "No one could find you, and bloody hell, you look dreadful."

"Not now, Gin," he said tiredly, and brushed past her, not caring if the whole room was watching, which he was fairly sure they were. Good. Maybe they'd stop talking about him and Ginny being an item.

It was a sheer act of willpower to get up the stairs and pull his shirt over his head, but he finally padded into the bath wearing only his pants and carrying the bottoms to his pajamas. He dropped them all on the floor and stumbled under the warm spray, groaning out loud as the hot water began to beat against tired, sore muscles. A score mark on his upper thigh stung from where he hadn't ducked fast enough.

Harry leaned forward and braced his hands against the wall, letting the water pour down over him. He would still need to get up and run in the morning, he thought wearily. He had to be in the best physical shape he possibly could. He needed every advantage he could get.

Long minutes later, he dragged himself out of the shower and managed to towel off, pulling on his pajama pants and rubbing a towel over his hair. Fumbling his glasses back on, he stumbled back into the dorm room, intent on the bed.

Which, he noticed as he got within a few feet of it, wasn't empty. Harry stopped and blinked. "Ginny?" he said, sounding confused because his tired brain wasn't really working at the moment. "What are you d…?"

Ginny cut him off by getting up and walking over to him. She took the towel and his dirty clothes from his hands and pulled him toward the bed. "Just lie down, Harry," she said quietly. "You need to sleep."

She gave a gentle push and he was caught off balance, and toppled to lie face down on the bed. It was so comfortable that his body immediately began to relax and sink down into the soft mattress. He started to drift off, but some part of him still registered Ginny's presence next to him.

"Shh," she whispered, and there was a feather-light touch stroking over his bare back. "Shh. Sleep, Harry." The part of his brain that was a normal, hormonal seventeen year-old boy wanted to tell her not to stop, and that he'd turn over and she could do the other side if she wanted; but the other part, the one that had grimly spent all afternoon battling and preparing to do murder stopped him.

Instead he let himself slide into slumber, hazily promising himself to think about it all tomorrow. Tomorrow, he thought, and slept.

$$$$$$$$$$

AN: All right, so it's a little slow right, now, but never fear, things are going to get exciting soon. Ol' Voldy is going to have to start commenting on the doings at Hogwards, isn't he? Heh heh heh…

**hermionegranger** – Hah! You don't scare me! You haven't met my mother! (but here's your chapter, just to be safe…)

**Ravenmom** – Yes, we do like smut, don't we? (smirking) Don't worry, I made this story R for a reason. Soon, my pretty, soon…

**Barbelibou** – Breathe, dear, breathe! Glad everything's working again, btw.

**Shahrezad1** – (blushing madly) I always sound so much more impressive when you quote me… I'm assuming Kenshin is an amime character? No, I haven't seen it, but I'll take your word for it.

**MrsSakuraPotter** – Sonora Snape is a Potions Mistress in her own right, and to summarize her story, she took the position after an accident to rest and recover, and work on a certain important piece of research. As for Harry and Ron… they're boys. Enough said.

**Gallandro-83** – (rubbing hands gleefully) Not to worry, our boys are far too dense to just surrender without a fight.

**Cherryblossom08** – Uh, you did know the house gets 10% of all bets, right?

**Ferggirl99** – Maybe I'll explain when YOU post another chapter… bwahahahah… Actually, if you read carefully, you'll see that Harry's 'abilities' have been developing over the past year or two. He's still learning to control them, and he's not really sure what else he can do. So far, he's managed to hide them from most people, or so he thinks…

**Child-of-scorpio** – Cookies… mmm… Now about that huge review you promised…

**Sugarbaby, Hgforever, hplovah, java, Crookshankx, jetmcn, MusicMonkey88, AngieGS, maria, Jlatmil1, Christophe, hawkeye, BloodlessAce, Moonglaze, obsessed87** – Thank you all so very, very much! As always, your comments and encouragement are what drive me to write the next chapter. Cupcakes for everyone!


	12. Deeper Down the Hole

AN: Now we start getting into why it's rated "R"… heh heh heh

Chapter 11

Ginny was sleepy the next morning. She'd sat on Harry's bed, watching him sleep and thinking, until Ron had come upstairs and kicked her out. As a result, she'd gotten to her own bed rather late. Frankly, she thought sleepily, she should have just borrowed the part of Harry's he hadn't been using. The corners of her lips turned up as she pictured Harry's face if he woke up and found her lying next to him.

Then she rolled over and buried her face in her pillow with a groan. She hadn't gotten a straight answer from him about what he'd been up to, to get into such a state. She couldn't think of when she'd seen Harry look more exhausted. Whatever he was doing, it was wearing him out.

Something thumped against the side of her bed, and Ginny jerked her head up and glared blearily. "Come on, Gin, you've got a half hour before breakfast, and the bathroom's free," Cara said from the vicinity of her own bed.

"Right, breakfast, classes, stupid school…" Ginny muttered before taking a deep breath and dragging herself out of the nice, warm, cozy covers. She headed straight for the bathroom. After all, an empty bath didn't happed very frequently in this dorm room.

Twenty minutes later, clean, teeth brushed and wrapped in an oversized towel, Ginny walked back into the room. Cara was still there, this time doing something with her bookbag.

"Are you waiting for me?" Ginny asked, feeling guilty as she rummaged for clothes. "You should have yelled at me to go faster."

Cara just shrugged and bent to peer under her bed. Ginny gave her a curious look. "Something wrong?" she asked, a tad cautiously. She and her dorm mates, they all had healthy respects for each others moods. Women of passion, they liked to call themselves. Moody bitches, Ron had been heard to mumble on occasion, usually right before he was hit with any number of hexes.

Cara heaved a sigh, straightened up and then threw her bookbag on her bed in a fit of temper. "Dammit, I can't find it!" she burst out. "Why'd Hagrid have to make us get another bloody book that walks on its own? Wouldn't it make more sense to have a book that would sit still long enough to let you read it? But NO, he's got to have the weirdest, most vicious page-biting tome available."

Ginny buttoned her blouse, staring. "Hey," she said, concerned as she walked over to Cara. "What's wrong?" It wasn't like Cara to go off on Hagrid. She loved him dearly, weird animal obsessions and all, they all did.

Cara glared at her bookbag and then burst into tears. "I haven't seen Draco yet," she mumbled rather soggily.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's breakfast, he'll probably be sitting downstairs," she said.

Cara sniffed and swiped at her eyes. "No, he's been gone all weekend," she said. Ginny frowned. Now that she though of it, she HADN'T seen the blonde Slytherin around this weekend, which was unusual. He and Cara tended to be joined at the hip.

"Where is he?" she asked, wrapping an arm around her friend.

Cara sniffed once more, and then let herself be pulled down to sit on the bed. "He turned seventeen this summer, right? Which meant that he finally inherited all the Malfoy stuff. And the paperwork took a really long time, and he had to go and sign things and get spells done so the house would recognize him as the owner and decide if his mother could move back in because the house has been keeping her out once he had his birthday and it didn't think his dad was still the head Malfoy and damn it he hasn't owled!"

Ginny blinked, and mentally sorted through that rather long sentence, all said in one breath. "Ok. Draco's now the head of the Malfoy family, is that what I'm getting?" she asked cautiously. Cara nodded. "And he had to go do legal things this weekend and you haven't heard from him?" She nodded again. "And what's this thing with his mother?"

Cara sighed and flopped backward to lie on the bed, wincing when her head thumped against a corner of her bookbag. "He said that once he turned seventeen, the wards and stuff on the house stopped being in a kind of limbo, the way they'd been since his dad died. Now they're refusing to recognize anyone but him as allowed to enter the house, until he resets them." She sighed again and rubbed her forehead. "Which means that his mother, who's lived there the whole time, hasn't been able to get back into the house since Draco's birthday. And he's got to decide if he's going to let her."

"Oi," Ginny said, grasping the real problem. "Because he doesn't want Voldemort getting in again?"

Cara's lips tightened. "Or any of his little friends," she said. Ginny's mind flashed to the same person she was sure her friend was thinking of, and shivered. Bellatrix was safely locked away. "See, I guess the way it works is that the Head of the House, that's Draco, can say who can come in and out without interference. And any of those people have the power to invite someone in. So if he puts his mom in the wards, and she invites a Death Eater in…"

Ginny nodded. "Yeah," she said heavily. She should have paid more attention to Cara this weekend, she thought. No wonder her friend had been so into the idea of that slumber party, she'd been looking for something to distract her. Reaching over she grabbed Cara's hand and squeezed. "Well, I know one thing for sure," she said. Cara rolled her head to look at her. "You'll feel a lot better if we go downstairs and eat. Especially if Draco happens to be there."

Cara heaved a sigh. "Yeah," she mumbled. "I just wish he'd let me come and… help, I guess."

Ginny grimaced, and got off the bed to finish dressing. "Welcome to my world," she said dryly. "Full of uncooperative, macho men who think they don't need any help at all."

Cara snorted behind her. "Oh yeah, what was up with Harry last night? I mean, that guy looked awful."

Ginny straightened her tie and reached for her school robes. "I don't know yet," she said. "He was so tired he just collapsed." She turned around and raised an eyebrow delicately. "But let me say, I'll be getting an answer one way or another."

Cara grinned, looking much more herself. "Got something planned for breakfast?" she asked eagerly.

Ginny shrugged and grinned. "Nah, nothing much. Just a little good morning that should make him wake up in a hurry," she said evilly. Cara laughed aloud, and the two of them headed down the stairs.

$$$$$$$$$$

Harry slumped in his seat, staring at his cauldron. Breakfast had been very uncomfortable. He'd eaten rapidly, one eye on the door so as to avoid Ginny. He had the definite feeling that she was planning on cornering him about last night, and he really didn't want to have that discussion.

He eyed the light bubbling that was going on in his potion and gently nudged the fire a bit. He didn't want to over-cook the stuff, the book had said that a fouled-up Paralysis Potion was nasty. Just what you wanted exploding all over you.

So he'd lit out after nearly swallowing his breakfast whole, and had hidden in the library until the very last minute when he'd bolted for class. Ron, of course, had sat and smirked at him the whole time, right until Potions when Hermione had breezed in and dropped her things next to him, giving Ron another kiss on the cheek and turning his friend bright red. Harry glanced over at the two of them, to see Ron studiously not looking at Hermione. Hermione was working, of course, looking completely focuses… Harry blinked, and then grinned. Was it just him, or was her skirt a little shorter than was customary? He watched as Ron snuck another look down at their friend's legs, and resisted the urge to laugh. Oh, this was fun to watch when it wasn't him.

The classroom door opened, and Harry looked up to see Malfoy stroll in. Professor Snape didn't even ask him where he'd been, just raised a cool eyebrow and nodded at the board. Malfoy nodded in return and sauntered over to the table next to Harry. Where'd he been? Harry wondered curiously. He supposed he could poke around his thoughts and find out, but that would just be rude. Harry gave a mental shrug and turned his attention back to his potion. It wasn't like he cared, anyway.

An hour later, Harry stoppered the bottle and began cleaning up his space. Merlin, this was a long class, he thought. Almost as long as History of Magic, although there, at least, a bloke could catch a nap. Here you just sat in silence and watched stuff boil.

"Oi, Harry, get a move on, mate, I'm hungry," Ron said, already packed and ready.

Hermione stepped up next to him, and rolled her eyes. "Ron, you're always hungry," she said, reaching out and tapping him lightly on the chest. Although it looked a bit more like a stroke than a tap…

Harry tried not to grimace. "Yeah, I'll catch up, go on and I'll meet you in the Great Hall," he said, averting his eyes and trying not to picture Hermione seducing Ron. Who was at this moment turning red again. "Just save me some food, you bottomless pit."

Ron mumbled something indistinct, but Hermione smiled in Harry's direction. "Ok, we'll see you up there," she said, taking Ron's hand and pulling him toward the classroom door. "Come on, Ron," she said. Harry noticed that she kept the Head Boy's hand as they left.

He shook his head and finished packing his vials of supplies back into their carrying case. The classroom was quiet, everyone else gone and he was tempted just to stay down there and avoid Ginny some more…

"Potter," said a voice next to him, and Harry jumped.

"Christ, Malfoy," he grumbled. Ok, so the room wasn't completely empty. It had been nice pretending, however.

He turned to look at the other boy, fully prepared to make some kind of cutting comment about Slytherins and sneaking but paused. "What's up?" he asked instead, narrowing his eyes. Malfoy had been silent and perfectly controlled the entire class, but now he was looking blank and feeling disturbed.

The Slytherin gave him a narrow look back, and held out a brown package. "You may want this," he said. Harry just looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He knew better than to just take things.

Draco sighed and dropped the package on the table. "I found it in Malfoy Manor," he said coldly. "A sealed room formerly used by my father." A sardonic smirk crossed his face. "There was a great deal in that room," the other boy mused, almost as if he forgot Harry was there. "Too bad it's all going to disappear."

Harry did some quick mental shuffling. "Voldemort," he said flatly, bringing Malfoy's attention back to him. "You found your father's room with all his things for Voldemort."

Draco raised a cool eyebrow. "Clever, aren't you?" he said mockingly. "Very good, Potter, in the process of expelling my mother from the house, I found my father's secret room. Anything else I can tell you?"

This time it was Harry's turn to raise his eyebrows. Again. "Have you seen Cara yet?" he asked. The other boy gave him a cool glare. Harry shrugged. "Seems to me you want to talk, and god knows, you don't want to talk to me."

That actually got a laugh from the Slytherin, a short, harsh one, but a laugh nonetheless. "Quite right," he said, and picked up his own bag. Malfoy gave a nod at the package on the table. "At any rate, you'll want to look through that," he said. "It was in the room, and may help."

Harry frowned in puzzlement, but Draco was already heading for the door. Harry picked the package up. Books, perhaps? "Malfoy," he called out, making the other boy pause in the doorway. He held the package up. "Thanks," he said.

Draco just sneered back at him. "Any time," he said sarcastically, and then was gone. Harry had to grin, just a bit, having his own words thrown back at him. Well, apparently they were even, Draco having paid off the debt of last year in the Astronomy Tower.

Harry fingered the package and then tucked it into the bottom of his bag. He'd look through it later, when he knew he wouldn't be disturbed.

$$$$$$$$$$

Harry was on his way to the Quiddich pitch to set up early for practice that night, his mind darting back and forth between the package, which he hadn't opened yet, and the drills he was going to put those bloody Chasers through, much to Ron's delight, when a hand shot out of a dark classroom and yanked on his arm. Caught off balance, Harry stumbled into the dark classroom.

The door clicked shut behind him and not a split second later he'd whirled about, wand tip on the throat of whoever had grabbed him. "_Lumos_," he said through his teeth. A second later, Harry grimace and dropped his wand. "Never, never grab me like that, Gin," he said half furious and half panicked that he'd almost hurt her.

Ginny stood there, hands on hips, looking a little annoyed. "Well, if you wouldn't avoid me all day, I wouldn't _have_ to grab you," she said. Her eyes narrowed. "And since when are you that quick to draw on someone?"

Harry tucked his wand back out of sight. "Since Voldemort," he said tightly, body still revved with the adrenaline of the near miss. He needed to get down to the pitch and burn it off, or he could be in some serious trouble, trapped in a classroom with Ginny.

"Hmm," Ginny said, studying him. She gave a sharp nod, and then said, "Alright, we'll let that pass. For the moment, anyway. Time for you to come clean, Potter. Where were you yesterday, and what were you doing that had you coming back half dead."

His body was still humming with the rush, and it wasn't dying down. No, his blood was pumping harder, if anything. Bloody hell. "My business," he said shortly. "Not yours."

Ginny laughed aloud at that, a sharp, angry sound. "Right. That's really what you think, isn't it, Harry?" She stepped right up next to him, and Harry had to curl his fingers in. "I've got news for you," she said, bringing her face close to his. His heart was pounding and his control straining at the leash. "You've got a lot of people who love you," she said, eyes on his. Harry would have liked to just walk away, but for some reason just stood and let her have her say. "Ron. Hermione. Me. Among so many more. I'm not even going to go into how many. And when you come staggering in, looking half dead, you loose the right to say it's not our business."

She jabbed him in the chest. "So don't you try that excuse with me anymore," she said fiercely. "You're going to have help, Harry, whether you like it or not. Get over it and get on with it."

She was still jabbing him with that finger, and it was shredding his control. "Don't push me, Gin," he said through his teeth, catching her wrist on it's next attack.

"Don't push you how?" she said, eyes firing dangerously. "Don't push you about avoiding your friends? Don't push you about keeping secrets? Or don't push you about this?" And with that, Ginny reached out and grabbed the front of his quiddich robes with her free hand and yanked him down to her level.

Once again, Harry was caught off guard by the kiss. At least mentally he was. His body seemed to know exactly what was going on, however, because a split second after those strawberry and spice lips hit his, he was kissing her back ferociously, dying for more of her taste. Her mouth was soft, warm, wet, her tongue tangling eagerly with his. Harry wanted to sink into that mouth and not come back up.

His brain seemed to have shut off because his hands closed hard around her, one around her waist, the other the nape of her neck, hauling her hard against him, pressing every soft curve against him. He ached, he ached like nothing he'd ever felt before. Her arms wrapped about him and she arched into the kiss, pressing even closer. He could feel her breasts flattened against his chest, the hard, aroused tips rubbing enticingly against him.

One of her legs wound about his, and then they were stumbling backward until Ginny's back came up hard against the classroom wall. Harry didn't pause for a breath, but pressed her into the cold stone, mad to feel her against him. Ginny gave a gasp as he reached down and cupped her bottom in his hands, lifting her until he was rubbing against the notch between her thighs. Her head dropped back, away from his kiss, and he attacked her neck instead, tasting the soft, white flesh there, feasting on her pulse point, her collarbone. Ginny moaned, a ragged, broken sound.

Somehow that sound, as passion-filled as it was, snapped Harry's mind back into play. "Fuck," he said between his teeth, and pulled back, pulled away. Ginny stumbled a bit as he abruptly let her down.

"Harry?" she said, looking confused. Dammit, he wasn't in much better shape himself. But at least his head was working again.

"Don't," he said harshly. "Just don't. Stay away from me, Ginny. Just…" He had to swallow hard, heart aching and body dying for hers. "Just stay away," he said and turned and left.

He headed for the Quiddich pitch in a black mood. He needed a cold shower, some exhausting exercise. No, he thought furiously. He needed Ginny. And he couldn't have her.

$$$$$$$$$$

AN: 114 reviews! I love you all… I apologize for the lack of individual responses, but I'll make it up by posting another chapter sometime tomorrow, complete with acknowledgements!

Ps. Review! : - )


	13. Strength and Struggles

Chapter 12

Ginny scowled at her dormroom wall. One step forward, two back, she thought gloomily. Harry had been dreadful at Quiddich practice. He'd driven them all hard for three straight hours, and when they'd finally been let go, everyone so tired they could hardly stand, he'd stayed behind and kept going. Bloody boy, she thought grumpily.

Ron had given her a questioning look as they'd headed for the locker rooms, and she'd glared back at him. Her normally thick older brother had then gotten this 'ahah' look on his face, and turned around and headed back toward the pitch. Ginny had silently wished him luck, she'd probably find his dead body sometime in the next few days. She, meanwhile, had come back to the dorm, nearly drowned in the shower, and was considering forgetting homework for the night and just passing out.

Cara came skipping into the room, looking quite a bit more cheerful than she had that morning. "How was practice?" she asked cheerfully. Ginny gave a weak moan. Cara stopped and looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "That good?" she asked.

"Bloody Potter, bloody idiot, stupid boy, dumbass who thinks he can just walk away…" Ginny mumbled back.

"Hmm," Cara said, sauntering over to drop down on Ginny's bed, stretching out next to her. Normally, Ginny would have prodded her off, but she was too tired. "Harry worked you guys really hard, huh? Any particular reason?" Her friend's voice was a _leeetle_ too hopeful.

"… empty classroom…" Ginny mumbled again.

Cara nudged her gently. "Wanna talk about it?" she asked quietly.

Ginny sighed. Did she want to talk about it? For a moment, she let herself get sucked back into the memory of that… kiss? Merlin, the second he'd put his hands on her, she'd felt like her entire body was going up in flames. She'd wanted, no, needed to get her hands on him, to get as close as possible. It had been unlike anything else she'd ever felt with any other boy. It had been exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, and she had no clue how Harry had been able to pull himself away from it. When he'd lifted her up and pressed her against the wall, and started rubbing against her… she shuddered.

Cara reached down and laced her fingers with Ginny's. "Anything you want to know?" her friend asked, sounding very serious. Ginny gave her hand an appreciative squeeze. Cara always seemed to know when someone was wrong.

"Is it always that intense?" Ginny finally asked.

"Just how far did you go?" Cara asked, surprise in her voice.

Ginny coughed lightly. "Ah, not that far, really, I mean…" she fumbled a bit, embarrassed. "All our clothes were still on."

Cara snorted lightly. "There's an awful lot you can do with your clothes still on," she said. "Anyway. Intense? It always is with me and Draco. It's like… It's like the two halves of coming together and making one whole," she said thoughtfully. "It's always… right, I guess. I mean, sometimes it's soft, sometimes it's wild, sometimes it's in between. But it's always… right."

Ginny lay and thought about it. Right…. It was always right… "Thanks," she said, squeezing Cara's hand again. "Now get out of my bed, wench, so I can get some sorely needed sleep. After this afternoon, I'm clearly going to need all the strength I can get."

Cara chuckled and slid off the bed. "Are you referring to quiddich, or to the 'empty classroom'?" she asked, a teasing leer in her voice.

Ginny laughed, then groaned and rolled over. "Shut up," she said, voice muffled by the fact that her face was pressed into her pillow.

She was patted affectionately on the butt. "Sweet dreams," Cara said. Ginny sighed as she heard the door close. Sweet? She didn't know about that. But she had the feeling that they _would_ be good.

$$$$$$$$$$

Cara wandered back downstairs and glanced about the common room. She had a 'date' to meet Draco in a little bit, in the astronomy tower. She gave a little shiver, thinking about it. Intense? Yeah, that was one way to put it, Gin, she thought with a smug smile. Frankly, she couldn't wait to get her hands on her boy again.

Her eye was caught by Ginny's brother, Ron, sitting sprawled in a chair by the fire, looking very tired. Hermione was sitting next to him on the arm of the chair, frowning down into the fire. The Head Girl looked up and spotted Cara, and tilted her head in invitation.

Cara strolled over and plopped down on a nearby couch. "How's Ginny?" Hermione asked. Ron rolled his head around to look at Cara.

"Beat," she said, shrugging. "She's already in bed."

"Bloody Potter," Ron grumbled. "Practice was a nightmare. He does that again, I'll give him detention." Hermione snorted at that.

"Sure you will," she said dryly. She shook her head and looked back at Cara. "Any idea what set Harry off?" she asked, clearly suspecting something by the lift of her eyebrows.

Ron frowned and mumbled something, but Cara ignored him. She gave Hermione a delicate lift of her eyebrows. "She mentioned something about an 'empty classroom'," she said with a satisfied smile.

Hermione grinned and opened her mouth, but Ron beat her too it. He actually sat up, looking dark. "Harry and Ginny? In an empty classroom?" Uh-oh, Cara thought. "Bloody Potter…" he growled, making as if to stand.

Hermione reached down and gave him a gentle shove back into the chair. "Sit down, Ron," she said. She looked down at her fellow Head, and Cara settled back to watch. She rather enjoyed observing these two couples.

"But 'Mione," Ron started, still looking angry.

Hermione shook her head at him. "No," she said firmly. "You stay out of it. Ginny knows exactly what she's doing," she said. "And it's between her and Harry if anything comes of it. YOU," she poked him in the chest, "do not get a say." Ron opened his mouth again, and Hermione immediately covered it with her hand. "Nope. Don't even try," she informed him. "Besides, you've been hoping they got together since fifth year."

Ron mumbled something from under her hand, and Cara didn't have a clue what it was, but apparently Hermione did. The Head Girl grinned. "Yes, well, try not to think about that part. It'll happen eventually, you know. You might as well get used to it."

Ron mumbled something again, one eyebrow going up this time, and Hermione's smile turned playful. "No, I don't believe I will," she said coyly. Oho, Cara thought with a grin.

Ron mumbled something again, looking up at Hermione, who shook her head with another smile. Then she jerked a bit, and her eyes went wide as she dropped her hand. Cara resisted the urge to chatter, 'what, what?', as she seemed to have currently been forgotten.

Ron was rather red, but was smiling a bit smugly. "Right then, I'm off to bed," he said, heaving himself up out of the chair. Hermione just sat and stared up at him. Ron nodded at Cara. "Night," he said. Then he turned to Hermione. Quickly, he leaned down and scooped the other girl up in his arms, making her gasp and clutch at him in surprise, before setting her down in his empty seat. "Night," he said again, and disappeared up the stairs.

Cara watched him go, admiring the back side of him, in a purely aesthetic way, of course, before looking back at Hermione. She grinned and raised an eyebrow. "Well?" she asked.

Hermione was blushing like mad, and her eyes were sparkling. "He kissed the inside of my hand," she said.

Cara's grin got bigger. "Excellent," she said.

$$$$$$$$$$

Harry had the dormroom all to himself, and the curtains drawn about his bed. He'd finally pulled out the package that Malfoy had given him that morning. He stared at the plain brown wrapping a long moment, wondering.

Finally he sighed. He was really too tired to string this out that long. Just open it and get it over with, he told himself.

Ripping open the package, he found a sheaf of loose papers, two slim books, and a small box the size of one of Dudley's videotapes. He started with the papers, since they were on top. There was a short, scrawled note on the top of the pile.

_Potter,_

_Thought you would need these._

Harry's lips twisted in a semblance of a smile. Malfoy, a man of few words, he thought, and then turned his attention to the papers. He studied the top one. It almost looked like… a spell? He skimmed a few more pages. They all looked like spells. Ones he wasn't familiar with, but unless he missed his mark, they were all Dark Magic. He read another sheet and shuddered. Really Dark Magic.

They were in various hands, in various states of completion. Harry tapped the sheaf thoughtfully. He'd make copies and send Hedwig with the rest to Dumbledore, he finally decided. As much as he preferred to keep things to himself, this was something that might help the aurors and all the other people who were out fighting Death Eaters at the moment. As for his own copies, he could give a set to Hermione to see what she made of them. It would give her a way to help without putting her front and center, he thought. Setting the stack aside, Harry reached for the books.

The two slim volumes were plain and leather-covered. Harry flipped one open and found it was a type of journal. Skimming through the pages, he quickly realized that this was a journal about… HIM. He read a few entries with raised eyebrows. Apparently Lucius had been keeping tabs on him, right up until the end of fourth year and Voldemort's return.

His eye wandered over a few of the entries from his second year, and he scowled as he saw Ginny's name come up. He'd known if was the elder Malfoy who'd given Ginny the diary. And now here it was in print, gloatingly describing what had happened at Hogwarts.

Harry shut the book with a snap and tossed it aside. It was something he was glad wasn't in someone else's possession, but it wasn't something that would help him all that much with what lay ahead. He picked up the other book, and flipped to the title page. This book appeared to be another journal, this time filled with notes about… rejuvenation spells? Harry thought curiously. He flipped some more.

Interesting, he thought, finally setting the book aside. Apparently Lucius had been the one to do all the research on bringing Voldemort back. Wormtail had just been the patsy who did it. Harry thought of the scene in the graveyard. Perhaps in an effort to make up for his defection all those years ago? he wondered.

Finally, Harry turned to the box. It was a plain, wooden box, nothing special, nothing fancy. There was another short note attached to the top, in Draco's hand.

_He liked souvenirs_.

Harry turned it over in his hands curiously, and heard something rattle a bit as he did. On the bottom he spied a small label, as if to set it apart from others like it. He peered closer.

_Potter_, it read. Harry stared in shock. Potter… his hands trembled a bit as he set the box back down. He didn't know if he wanted to open it.

There was a thump at the door, and then the sound of feet and muttering. Harry jerked as his curtains were pulled open and Ron's head appeared in the opening. "Oi, what's all this?" his friend asked curiously.

Harry stared at the box, almost as if he hoped it would open itself. "From Malfoy," he finally said.

Ron scowled. "That slimy git?" he said, and helped himself to the end of the bed, leaning back against the bedpost. He glanced down at the books and papers. "What'd he give you, and better, why?"

Harry's first inclination was to tell Ron to butt out, it didn't concern him, but then he caught himself. He'd promised that he'd tell them whatever he could, as long as it didn't endanger them. And he didn't think these would. "He got them out of his father's secret room at Malfoy Manor," he said. He nodded at the papers. "Those are spells, ones I don't know. I figured I'd send Dumbledore a set and then let 'Mione look at them." He nodded at the books. "The bottom one is notes on me. Apparently Lucius was a fan." Both he and Ron snorted. "Top one is notes on how to bring good old Voldemort back to life."

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured. "And the box?"

Harry blew out a breath. "Haven't opened it yet," he said.

Ron picked it up and like Harry had, turned it about in his hands. "It says, 'Potter' on it," his friend said, giving Harry a keen glance.

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he said, feeling the muscles in the back of his neck draw tensely together.

Ron held out the box. "Never know until you open it," he said.

Harry met his friend's eyes, suddenly profoundly glad that Ron had come in and helped himself to the end of his bed. "Yeah," he said, taking it. Bracing himself, Harry flicked the small brass latch and opened the lid.

Ron leaned over a bit and the two of them stared down into the box. "Aren't those…" Ron started.

Harry swallowed. "Yeah," he said yet again, voice tight, reaching down and picking up what looked like a framed wedding photo. The frame was still intact, undamaged. The picture inside was a muggle one, oddly enough. The man and woman were caught as they leaned close, dressed in muggle wedding clothes, and blissfully kissed.

"Souvenirs," Ron muttered. "Sick bastard." Harry was a second behind, but realized a moment later what his friend was referring to. A wave of hate swept over him and he had to put the photo down carefully. Lucius had been there, that night. Had stolen his little mementos and had disappeared into the night after his Master had fallen.

"You all right?" Ron asked, breaking through Harry's haze. Harry tried to reel in the fury, and looked at his friend.

"No," he said tightly. Ron gave a sharp nod, and looked back down at the box.

"Fuck," his friend said, sounding sickened. Harry looked down as well, afraid of what was there.

From the bottom of the shallow box, two golden rings gleamed. One larger and thicker, the other smaller and more delicate. A gold locket lay next to them, the chain snapped as if it had been torn from the woman's neck.

Harry didn't touch them, didn't move, but instead felt the rage start to build inside him. Lucius had been there… had watched his parents fall, watched Voldemort be vanquished, and before he'd run with his tail between his legs, he'd stripped the rings from his parents fingers, and ripped the necklace from his mother's neck. It was a black, black rolling mass of emotion that was growing in the back of Harry's throat, something so dark and bitter that it was going to come spewing out…

"_Aquas!_" Harry heard and then there was the splash of cold water against his leg, jarring his vision into clearing. Ron was sitting up on his knees, looking pale and rather tense, wand in hand.

"Merlin, Harry," his friend said. "I dunno what you just did, but you lit the bedclothes on fire."

Harry looked down and sure enough, there was a scorched part of the covers right by his leg. "Shit," he muttered. He'd lost control for a minute there. He could have hurt Ron, hurt himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to set it aside until he could get to the Room of Requirement and work it out. He opened them again and looked at Ron. "Thanks," he said.

Ron nodded jerkily and shoved his wand back in his pocket. "You ok?" he asked, eyes serious.

Harry gave a sharp laugh. "No," he said and then pulled out his own wand and made two copies of the papers. "Give these to Hermione, will you?" he said, holding out one set. "I'm going to go have Hedwig deliver these."

Ron frowned, eyes still worried. "You should take them yourself," he said, even as he took the papers.

Harry gave a harsh laugh. "Yes, that's exactly what I should do," he said. "I should really go see Dumbledore when I'm in the mood to destroy something." He grasped for some more control, and picked up the rest of the papers and the two books. Carefully, he closed the lid on the softly gleaming gold, and set it with the rest. The photograph, he pulled his curtains back and set on the nightstand by his bed.

"Give those to Hermione, will you?" he asked again, knowing he sounded curt but not really able to do anything about it. "Tell her I'll talk to her about them tomorrow. Later." He put the rest of the items in his trunk and locked it. Harry picked up the last set of copies. "I'm going to take these now," he said. "And maybe take a walk."

Ron got up as well, face serious. "Right," he said. As Harry started for the door, Ron reached out and gripped his shoulder, squeezing hard. Harry paused a moment, feeling some of the overwhelming rage fade a bit at his friend's attempt at comfort. He reached up and gave Ron's hand a sharp rap with the rolled up papers, as a kind of thanks, and then kept going for the door.

The halls were dark and silent and Harry went straight to the owlry. He needed to get these papers gone and go blast some dummies in the Room before he lost control again.

$$$$$$$$$$

Ginny was awakened by someone shaking her shoulder. "No," she moaned, still half asleep.

"Ginny!" a familiar voice hissed. "Wake up. It's Hermione."

For Hermione, Ginny made an effort to wake up. Sort of. At least she didn't start throwing hexes, which she would have done had it been her brother.

"Whazzamatter?" she mumbled, blinking blearily.

Hermione's face was tense and worried in the dark room. How late was it? Ginny wondered. Late enough that the rest of the room was asleep, at least. "It's Harry," the Head Girl said, and that was enough to make Ginny wake up the rest of the way.

"What? What's wrong?" she asked, pushing her hair back and forcing herself to sit.

Hermione bit her lip. "He got a package today, from Malfoy," she started. "There were some things in it that Draco's father apparently had… there was a box. With," Hermione paused and swallowed, eyes looking rather bright. "With souvenirs from that night."

"That night?" Ginny said, not understanding. "What night… Oh!" Her hand flew up to cover the gasp. "No!"

Hermione nodded. "Yes," she said, voice wobbling a bit. "Harry went off in a very, very black mood, Ron says, and he hasn't come back yet."

Ginny wanted to cry, too, but swallowed hard and put it aside for the moment. "I'll go downstairs and wait for him," she said.

Hermione sniffled. "That's what I thought," she said. "I'll make Ron go to bed. I thought you should be the one to see him first. You'll be able to make him feel better, I think."

"You aren't…" Ginny started, but Hermione shook her head.

"I'll see him in the morning, when I'm not going to cry all over him," she said. "And he'll be more ready for Ron then, too."

Ginny scrambled up, and grabbed a blanket and pillow from her bed. She didn't know how long it would be. "Thank you, Hemione," she said as they started for the door.

Her friend squeezed her arm. "I love him, too," was all she said.

$$$$$$$$$$

AN: Honestly, I could just keep going and going and there'd be no end to this chapter! I guess I'll cut it there and make you all beg for the rest. What WILL happen when Harry comes back? (bwahahahaha)

**hplovah** – Ok, the Draco/parents/helping Harry thing… Draco's father was killed in the first story, "Hidden Intents". I realize that the last chapter might have been a bit confusing. What you were supposed to get was that Draco is now the head of the Malfoys, now that he's of age. The Manor and it's protection spells became keyed to him on his 17th birthday, and he had to reset them if he wanted anyone but himself to be able to get in. Hence the comment about his mother (see the second story, "Undercurrents" for that bit of history). The helping Harry thing… They're not buddies, but Draco owes Harry, and he's not evil anymore.

**Crookshankx, MrsSakuraPotter** - You know, I'm really amazed at how many people are commenting on Draco. It's a real compliment to me, that you all still like him. I prefer him as a non-evil character myself, but feel that the stories where he gets buddy-buddy with Harry & Co. are just too far out of character. Thank you!

**Shahrezad1** – Impervious? Hah! Not by a long shot. Poor Harry… and to answer your previous question, I'd be most flattered to be one of your quotes. (blushing)

**Hawkeye** – What IS Harry going to do? heh heh heh…

**Child-of-scorpio** – I'm still waiting on that big review… (big toothy grin)

**Barbelibou** – Ahh! Not the flying monkeys… As for Ginny figuring it out, patience, my dear. We'll get to that…

**Ferggirl99** – Ron's getting to it… he's a bit dense, you know…

**MetroDweller, elijah'stheone, mary-v, lozzie, Caitlin Cat, lluvatar, cherryblossom08, Moonglaze, Liz, jessy, obsessed87, sugarbaby, MusicMonkey88** – Thank you all so much for your reviews! This chapter got written just because people were so eager for more… You guys keep feeding the ego, and I'll keep posting. Lol.


	14. The Closeness of Night

Chapter 13

Harry didn't know what time it was anymore. All he knew was that the Room seemed to be getting a bit tired of coming up with new dummies for him to destroy in one giant flash of fireballs. He prowled a bit as he waited, wandering to the window to stare out at the dark night.

He flexed his fingers before leaning against the frame. He wasn't even tired, magically, that is. He had the feeling that if he sat still too long, he'd fall asleep, but otherwise, he felt like he could fling spells all night long.

He almost heard the spell before it came, and without turning around pointed a finger. "_Flamatus_!" It was rapidly becoming his favorite. There was just something about fireballs, he mused. He heard the thud of the spell hitting and the crackle of the dummy starting to burn, and then it stopped.

Harry turned around, and to his surprise saw someone else standing in the room, over by the door. He blinked. "Sir?" he said, unable to put any enthusiasm in his voice.

Professor Dumbledore stepped forward out of the shadows. "Hello, Harry," he said. "You're about rather late, aren't you?"

Harry bit back the retort he wanted to snap, and instead just shrugged and turned back to the window. He was pretty sure Dumbledore hadn't just wandered into the Room, which meant that he had a reason to be there. And Harry didn't feel like making small talk while waiting for that reason.

He heard the soft shuffling of the Headmaster's robes over the floor, heard him stepping over the charred remains of the dummy, but still didn't look as the old man came to stand right next to him.

There was a soft sigh. "No matter how dark the world, no matter how fearsome the events of the day, there has always been a certain something that can be found at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said softly. "It is why the castle has been the target of dark wizards before, and will be again. It is why it has never fallen, and never will." Harry could see the silver beard out of the corner of his eye tilt slightly. "Hogwarts protects its own," he said.

Harry wasn't quite sure where Dumbledore was going with all that, but he did have a question. "How did you know I was here?" he asked, rather abruptly. If someone else had tipped off the Headmaster, that meant he would have to find another secret spot to practice in. The very last thing he needed was to loose his element of surprise.

Dumbledore was quiet a moment. "Hogwarts protects its own," he finally said again, in a slow, thoughtful voice. "The castle led me to you."

Harry restrained a snort of disbelief, but decided to interpret the remarks as meaning that no student had found him out. He supposed that was a relief.

There was another quiet sigh. "Harry," Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid we must speak about what is troubling you."

THAT got Harry to give a twisted grin. "What's troubling me? I don't know what you're talking about, Professor. I come down here for the fun of it," he said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"You can't hide your abilities much longer, Harry," came the Headmaster's voice. "Your professors have noticed. It won't be long until your fellow students do so as well."

"Why do you think I'm in this bloody room in the middle of the night?" Harry demanded, and immediately regretted the slip. But since he'd started… "I'll be as ready as possible, don't you worry. I'll do my best to kill your old friend Tom."

The bitterness in Harry's voice hung in the air after the words had faded away into the shadows. "I should never have kept the prophecy from you," the old man finally said, sounding as old as he probably was. "I should never have tried to shield you as I did. I should have kept my affections from blinding me from the fact that you were strong enough to handle it." The sadness was deep and nearly swamping the room in its dense waves. "But I am old, Harry. I have seen students come and go for more than a century. I have battled dark wizards, and have watched my friends fall while I lived on. And whoever has come after have looked to me for answers, for guidance. And I have become far too used to my decisions being the only ones."

Harry's stomach was rolling, churning. "I deserved to know, especially after the Tri-Wizard Tournament," he said through his teeth.

"You did," came the soft response.

"You abandoned me the next year. I lived through hell with Umbridge. I still have the scars from her damned quill," he said lifting the hand in question and then dropping it again, still staring out the window. The words were coming fast and rather furious now. "I spent the first eleven years of my life being told I was nothing, only to have you, who'd gone to such great pains to assure me I was _something_, disappear like it didn't mean a thing."

"I am sorry," came that same soft voice.

"Yeah, you're sorry," Harry muttered, finally dropping his gaze to stare at the floor. "I'm sorry, too. Sorry that so many people have gotten dragged into my mess over the years. But sorry doesn't save spilled milk."

They were quiet again. This time the quiet wasn't quite so dense and heavy. Harry had avoided talking to the Headmaster since the end of fifth year, when he'd destroyed the old man's office. Something that now, he felt vaguely embarrassed about. He hadn't learnt the control he had today, he thought.

"We cannot go back," said Dumbledore softly. "Only forward." There was the lightest touch of a hand on Harry's arm, and he stiffened. "Will you go forward with me, Harry? I ask you to."

"I don't know if I trust you," Harry blurted. "Not like I don't trust a Death Eater, you're not out to kill me." He paused. Well, he did have a rather dark sense of humor these days. "As far as I can tell, anyway." There was a chuckle beside him, and something that had been tight for years eased just the slightest touch. "I don't know if I trust you to tell me everything, to not use me as a tool to end Voldemort."

He saw the white beard nod in the edge of his vision. "I know this," Dumbledore said. "I ask for a great deal, when perhaps I do not have the right."

Harry stared out at the night again and felt like the darkness sat heavy on his shoulders. Images rolled through his mind, all from the last six years. The times he'd charged in without thinking, the times he'd tried to do the right thing. All the times he'd tried, dammit.

"I'll give you what I can," he finally said, weariness creeping up on him. "I don't know how much I've got left, but I'll give you what I can." He at last turned and faced the Headmaster, realizing with a start that he was a few inches taller. "But the moment you break my trust again," he paused. He didn't know if he could handle that.

Dumbledore was studying him, a light behind those uncanny eyes of his. "In so many ways, you remind me of your parents," he said softly. "Your father's determination. Your mother's will. And then, you will do something that reminds me that you are your own person, and quite a remarkable one at that." Professor Dumbledore held out his hand. "I give you my word, as someone who has missed you, Harry, that I will not keep secrets from you. Not about matters that you are involved in."

Harry gave his headmaster a long look, almost tempted to see if he could open the door to his mind and check for himself. But he'd said he'd try. He stretched his own hand out and shook the old man's.

The room seemed to lighten, the air get less heavy. Dumbledore smiled, a flash of white teeth in the dark. "I am going to seek my bed now," he said. "Tomorrow, I may ask to see you, to discuss other matters that do not need to be settled this evening." He tilted his head, eyes twinkling at Harry. "I suggest you do the same," he said. "You seem to have run out of practice dummies to destroy."

Harry looked down at the charred remains of the last one, and snorted. "Yeah, the Room's getting a bit peeved at me, I'd say," he sighed. And he was tired. He followed Professor Dumbledore to the door and out into the dark, still hall. He could almost hear the sigh of relief that the Room of Requirement gave as he left. But that was probably just his imagination.

"One more thing, Harry," the Headmaster said, turning to go the other way down the hall. Harry glanced at him. "Lucius Malfoy was a bastard." And then the old man was gone with a swish of robes.

Harry stared blankly down the now empty hall. He finally snorted. Bloody old wizard, he thought. And then he sighed and turned for Gryffindor Tower.

$$$$$$$$$$

Ginny had been sitting, curled into a corner of the couch facing the portrait hole for hours, she thought. She'd dozed off and on, having dragged a blanket downstairs when it had become clear that Harry was going to take his time coming back. She was so sleepy… she wouldn't sit up for just anyone. Nope, just for Mr. Green Eyes himself. Everyone else could go hang, and wait until she'd gotten a full night's sleep.

Finally, the portrait opened and the tall shape of the very person she was waiting for stepped through. He straightened as it swung shut, every line of his body speaking of his fatigue. Yet he seemed more… relaxed than she'd expected.

Harry didn't see her as he started for the dorm stairs, so she was forced to say softly, "Harry."

He swung around, eyes scanning the dimly lit room, picking her out in her corner of the couch. He frowned. "Ginny?" he said, taking a couple of steps toward her. "What are you doing up?"

In response, Ginny raised an eyebrow. "It's been a hell of a day, hasn't it?" she asked, without expecting an answer.

He snorted. "You could say that," Harry muttered.

"You're really tired," she said, studying him some more. She lifted a corner of her blanket in invitation. "Come sit with me, just for a minute."

He held back, not surprisingly. "Gin, I meant what I said this afternoon…" he started. She'd known he'd say that, but hadn't really realized how it would hurt. She plowed on anyway.

"Harry, shut up and sit, ok? I'm your friend, first and foremost, and as a friend, I can damn well see that you're tired and depressed and could really use someone to just sit with," Ginny snapped at him. Hey, she was tired. She was allowed. He didn't move, but stood there as if his feet were stuck. She resorted to her mother's tried and true look. "_MOVE_, Potter."

She thought he grumbled something under his breath, but couldn't be certain. Sure enough, though, he came over to her couch on silent feet and accepted her offer of the blanket. He settled back into the sofa with a sigh of profound weariness.

Ginny let him sit and soak in the firelight a few minutes, feeling the tenseness in the body next to hers slowly start to ease away. Of course, _her_ body had other ideas, but she made a valiant effort to push them away.

"Hermione told me what was in Malfoy's package," she finally said. Harry grunted. "I guess it's a good thing he's already dead."

"Why?" Harry's voice was a bit flat, but a bit curious.

"Because otherwise she and Ron would have already gone after him," Ginny said simply. It was truth, as well.

Harry lifted a hand and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah," he said. "But I would have been there first." Ginny hadn't heard such hate from him before, not even at the worst moments, talking of Voldemort.

She reached over and caught his hand, squeezing it. "We all would have gone, you know," she told him. "Because it would have been the right thing to do."

He was still a few moments, and then nodded, squeezing her hand back. Ginny felt a thrill, a tingle of unexpected hope when he didn't immediately pull away. Cautiously, she let herself relax, savoring the feel of his strong hand wrapped around hers. "Can I see the rings sometime?" she said.

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he said gruffly. He rather absently threaded his fingers through hers, and slumped lower, legs sticking out in front of him. Ginny felt the warmth of it all wrap around her, and she hugged it close.

"Gin," he finally said, turning his head and looking at her in the firelight. "About this afternoon…"

Ginny shook her head and cut him off. "Not now, Harry," she said quietly. "It can wait until morning."

He studied her a long moment, those green eyes gilded eerily gold by the fire, and then nodded. "Ok," he said and to her surprise bent and pressed a very gentle kiss on her surprised lips. "Thanks," he said, easing back.

She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. "You're welcome," she said quietly. His fingers wound about hers, she shifted closer and laid her head on his shoulder, in a spot that seemed like it was made for her. He in turn shifted a bit, until his arm was around her, holding her close. Ginny didn't dare think about it, not tonight. Tomorrow, she told herself. There was plenty of time for it all tomorrow.

$$$$$$$$$$

AN: I know it's been a bit since my last chapter, so I wanted to just get this up… I'll give individual review responses next chapter.

Thanks to everyone, and keep the encouragement coming!


	15. Surprising Depths

AN: The month of July has been mad, mad, mad out here in the real world… hence why I've been so delinquent on posting chapters. I probably won't get another up until sometime in early August, although I will do my darndest to prove myself wrong… Anywhoo. Here's your chapter!

$$$$$$$$$$

Chapter 14

Harry was sound asleep, in a way he hadn't been in weeks. Months. Years, really. And as a result, he was more than a little pissed to realize that someone was shaking his shoulder and waking him out of that wonderful dark realm of dreamlessness.

"Fuck off," he muttered, and kept his eyes closed. Although he was a tad uncomfortable, now that he thought of it, which didn't make sense, seeing as the beds at Hogwarts were unbelievably comfortable…

He was shook again. "Dammit, Potter, wake up," a familiar voice muttered.

Harry resisted the urge to hex him, and instead cracked an eyelid to glare at his best friend. "Bugger off, Ron, I'm sleeping," he said, and slammed the eye shut again.

There was a snort. "No, really?" Boy, Ron was a funny person in the morning. "You happen to be sleeping on the common room couch with my sister, you prat. So wake the bloody hell up."

THAT got Harry to open both his eyes. "Wha…" he said, frowning and glancing down. Huh. So he was. That explained why he wasn't in his comfortable bed.

It took a second for it to all actually register in his brain, and as a result, his muttered profanity was preceded by several seconds of confused silence. Gingerly, he started trying to extract himself from the girl curled against him. "Has anyone else been down?" he asked Ron in a low voice, feeling rather grim. Dammit. How could he have forgotten like he did? Of all the bloody things to get soft on…

Ginny was proving rather uncooperative, as well, as she was still sound asleep, and didn't seem all that inclined to give up her 'pillow'. Harry grunted as he finally lifted her bodily off of him and laid her down on the couch, making sure he got a pillow under her head and her blanket tucked over her. He looked up to see Ron watching him with narrowed eyes.

Ron raised an eyebrow when Harry looked up. "Right. Come on, then," he said and headed for the door. Harry looked down at the sweat-stained clothes from last night, and then shrugged. He'd come back and change later. He had a feeling that his friend wasn't really in the mood to wait on a shower.

Harry followed Ron out of the common room and down the hall, the two of them keeping pace silently as they went through the early morning corridors. Ron led him to the owlry, and then shut the door behind them. He turned around and pinned Harry with a look, opening his mouth.

Harry held up a hand, silently asking him to wait, and proceeded to thoroughly check the room, to see if there was anyone else present other than owls. There wasn't, and so he turned back to his grim-faced best friend.

"Ok," he said, feeling a little like he was facing a firing squad, "have at."

Ron crossed his arms over his chest. "You were sleeping on the couch with my sister," he said in what was a surprisingly neutral voice.

Harry managed a nod of agreement. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again." And he meant it this time, too.

Ron scowled. "Why the bloody hell not?" Harry was a little hard put not to drop his jaw on the floor. After all, Ron was rather infamous as the most protective of six protective older brothers. "Seems to me, you've give Ginny a certain amount of encouragement. I'd like to know why the devil you'd back away from her now."

Aww, hell, Harry thought, lifting his hands and running them through his hair. He did NOT want to have this conversation. "Ron," he started, feeling like he was picking his way through a minefield, "you know you're my best friend, right?"

"Right," Ron said, glaring.

"And that I'd never to anything to purposefully hurt you, or anybody in your family. Especially Ginny." Harry wasn't sure he should have added that last bit, since a gleam came into those narrowed blue eyes.

"Your point?" his friend asked.

Harry grimaced. "There are probably several hundred Death Eaters, at the very least, not to mention one homicidal Dark Lord, who would give their left arms, legs and any other body part necessary to be able to take me out," he said bluntly. "And that makes anyone close to me a target, something they can use." He stared at his friend, willing him to get it. "ANYONE, Ron," he said.

Ron frowned and studied him. It was a rather long and uncomfortable moment. "So you're saying that you've got to do everything alone because you're too worried someone else is going to get hurt?" Harry groaned, they were back to the same argument. He drove his hand into his hair in frustration as Ron went on. "Yeah, yeah, I know, Potter, same old bloody argument. But you're still wrong. And dammit, you're not going to play with my sister that way."

Ron stepped up and pointed a finger at Harry. "For once, I think the girls have it right about you. You're so damn busy trying to save everyone else that you're not bothering to save yourself." Harry blinked. Whaaaa? "So your friends are stuck trying to make sure you don't kill yourself over something totally stupid."

Harry couldn't help a cynical laugh. Saving the world was stupid?

"Knock it off, Harry, you think we haven't figured out that this all goes back to the prophecy?" Ron said, and sent Harry's mind staggering. "Fuck, I don't blame you for thinking you had to do it yourself, but damn, you're _wrong_."

His friend's face was earnest and serious and intent, and Harry was still trying to get past the 'we've figured out the prophecy' part. "Just what do you think the prophecy is?" he asked, rather amazed at the even tone that came out of his mouth.

Ron's lips twisted a bit. "That you're the only one who can kill Voldemort," he said. "No one else can help you, remember?"

Harry snorted. "Yeah, I remember," he muttered. "Too bad that's not just it." He hadn't meant to say that. Dammit, he was doing a lot of things he hadn't meant to do.

Ron frowned. "There's more? Merlin, what the bloody hell was batty old Sybill thinking? Isn't that enough?"

Harry laughed, he couldn't help it. "You'd think," he said. "Nope, the best part is that not only am I the only one who can defeat Voldemort, only one of us is going to come out of it alive."

There was silence in the owlry, nothing but the sound of feathers rustling and the soft murmur of one owl to another. "You kill him or he kills you," Ron finally said.

Harry sighed, rather relieved to have shared it, even though he knew it was the wrong thing to do. "Pretty much," he said wearily, lowering himself to sit in the straw on the floor. Good thing the house elves kept the place so clean, not that a little bird crap wouldn't blend right into these clothes.

Ron followed him down a moment later. "Well, hell," he finally said, face grave. And then Harry wince as one rather large fist plowed into his shoulder. "And you didn't tell us this? You didn't think we'd want to know?!"

"Ron," Harry started.

"I mean bloody hell! My best mate's facing a duel to the death at some point, and he doesn't see fit to tell me? Merlin, I should break every bone in your body!!" Ron was yelling.

"RON," Harry managed to get in. The redhead glared at him. "For fuck's sake, Ron, what good would it have done?"

Wrong thing to say. "Dammit, Harry, you should know better by now. _Family doesn't keep secrets_!"

There was silence again, the air hanging with those words and the owl feathers shuffling softly. "Well," Harry said finally, throat feeling a little thick. "I'm not really used to the whole family thing. And I figured I'd like to keep you guys around as long as possible, so…"

Ron exhaled loudly, interrupting. "I AM going to beat the crap out of you," he said, but didn't sound angry anymore. Just sad. "Harry, you're family, ok? My brother. Hermione's sister. Mum's already scheming how to get you a hand on the clock, which, by the way, was supposed to be your Christmas gift so if you don't act surprised when she finally gets it figured out, I'll have Bill and Charlie help me pummel you. And I know you've had a bunch of shits for your family up 'till now, but REAL families stick together." Ron gestured in the air. "Even Percy, prat that he still is, hasn't bloody apologized to Mum, and she _still_ cries about it… Even him, we'd all line up to stand up for him. So don't think that we're not going to be there, just because you say so."

Harry was struggling to keep himself under control, he'd never heard Ron talk like this before. Not his fun-loving friend who gloried in immaturity and living in the moment. Sure, Ron had his moments and was the best person to have in a pinch, but sitting here talking about feelings…?

"So I'm going to say it again, Potter, and I really hope you're listening this time," Ron said, sounding stern and Head-Boy-ish. Harry had to swallow the inappropriate laughter. Boy, was he a mess. "Whenever this thing goes down, I'm going to be there. So will Hermione and Ginny and everyone else. Because it's not just you, mate, it's all of us."

There was another silence, then Harry cleared his throat. "Better not let Hermione hear you being this serious, she'll start getting ideas," he muttered, and they shared an uncertain laugh.

"So are you going to start coming clean?" Ron finally asked. "Tell us about the rest of it?"

Harry sighed and rubbed his hands over his head. "You kind of put it so I have to, didn't you?" he said, with a wry grimace. Strangely, it didn't feel so bad, anymore, thinking about it. Sure he was still terrified that other people would suffer in his place, and simply because of him, but like Ron had said… he didn't really have a choice in that matter. They'd be there, whether he wanted them or not.

Ron flashed a grin. "What can I say, I'm persuasive," he said.

Harry grinned back, and then heaved himself up off the floor. "Merlin, I need a shower," he said, wrinkling his nose at himself. He looked at Ron. "And I think we need Hermione," he said quietly.

Ron gave him a stern look. "And Ginny?"

_That_ was a loaded question. Harry rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. "I won't deny that Ginny's… special to me," he finally said uncomfortable, wincing as Ron smirked. "But next to me, there's no one else who'd be in greater danger than a lover, Ron. Voldemort would stop at nothing if I showed him that kind of a weakness."

Ron scowled. "Who said anything about a lover? I damn well better not hear anything like that about my sister, Potter. That's just… eugh." Ron shuddered. "That's the kind of thing I'd be obligated to smash your ugly face for."

They shared a smirk, and then Harry turned serious. "Do you get what I'm saying, though? I want to, I just can't…"

Ron heaved a sigh, and tossed an arm around Harry's shoulders, and began towing him toward the doors. "Ye gods, you stink. Don't know how Ginny could sleep next to that. Look, all I'm going to say is that this might be another one of those things you don't get a choice in. Not if I know Gin. I mean, after that little bit in the common room a couple of days ago… pretty much the whole school knows what she's on about." Ron shrugged and gave Harry a shove forward through the now open door. "Seems like a bloke might as well take advantage of the situation."

Then he frowned. "Of the situation, not of the sister," he clarified.

Harry laughed out loud, for no reason that he could possibly comprehend. "You're stark raving nutters, you know that?" he said companionably, and they set out for Gryffindor Tower together.

$$$$$$$$$$

Ginny had woken up all by her lonesome on the couch, pillow under her head and blanket over her, and had been thoroughly disgruntled by that fact. Bloody boy had vanished again. She crossed her arms over her chest and mumbled under her breath. He thought he could get away, there was no bloody way she was letting him off the hook, not after last night and the hand-holding and the kiss and the lets-cuddle-and-fall-asleep-together bit. Hah. No way.

Hermione appeared at that point, wrapped up in a dressing gown and looking sleepy and worried. "Ginny?" she said as she came over to the couch. "Where's Harry, and Ron?"

Ginny glared. "I have no idea," she said. "And you can bet that I'm going to make certain people hear about it as a result."

Hermione sat down and got comfortable in one of the chairs, tucking her feet under her. Ginny gave the clock a glance. Bloody hell, it was early. "Did you see Harry last night?" her friend was asking anxiously.

Ginny dragged herself into the real world, not the clock-watching-I-should-still-be-sleeping world. "Yeah," she said, and then promptly blushed, remembering the aforementioned hand-holding and kiss.

Hermione merely raised an eyebrow at the flush on her face, and instead asked, "Is he all right?"

Ginny frowned, her face lightening, thankfully. "You know, he was really tired when he came back, but he was… I don't know, more relaxed than I thought he'd be?"

Hermione ran her hands over her hair, looking frustrated. "Oh, lord, I hope he didn't do anything stupid last night," she muttered. Ginny hadn't considered that part. Perhaps there was a partially decapitated Slytherin corpse on the other side of the castle, that could certainly be responsible for Harry's calm last night.

"I don't know, I think he…" she started when the portrait door opened and who should step in but the boy in question, followed by her far-too-annoying older brother. Of course, Ginny didn't give her sibling a second glance. Nope, her eyes went right to the pair of green ones that were currently studying her with a rather veiled glance that she didn't have a clue to its meaning. Darn boy. And then he looked away and at Hermione, who'd turned around, seen the two boys, and promptly hopped out of her chair and thrown herself at Harry.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," she was saying, hugging him tightly. Harry was looking a tad uncomfortable, but to his credit, he hugged the Head Girl back, and let her cling as long as she liked. Which, as it turned out, wasn't that long.

Hermione lifted her head and wrinkled her nose. "Eww, you stink," she said.

Harry laughed, actually laughed. Ginny could hardly believe her eyes. She darted a glance at her brother. What was going on?

Harry grinned down at Hermione. "Let me go get cleaned up, ok? Then we can go get some breakfast and… talk, I guess," he finished, casting a droll glance over his shoulder at Ron, who in turn smirked back at him.

Hermione was gaping. "Excuse me, but did I hear you voluntarily offer to talk with us?" she asked, reaching for the back of the chair. Frankly, Ginny was rather glad she was sitting herself. What on earth had happened here?

Harry's eyes locked on Ginny's for a long moment, that couldn't have been more than a second. "Ron and I sorted a few things out," he said, looking at Ginny but speaking to Hermione. "I think there are a few things we need to get settled." For some reason, Ginny was starting to feel very… hot. Itchy. All sorts of warm unsettled feelings. Whoo-boy, this should be an interesting talk.

Hermione sniffed, looking a bit teary eyed. "You go shower. We'll get dressed and do that." She turned to Ron, and reaching up, planted one hell of a kiss on her fellow Head. "You are _such_ a good friend," she said tearfully, before darting for the staircase, sniffling loudly.

Ginny had to choke on the giggle at Ron's bewildered and definitely pleased face. "She keeps doing that," he said.

Ginny did laugh now, and stood up, dragging the blanket with her. "Maybe you'd better start thinking about why, Ronniekins," she teased. "And you might want to think about that goofy look on your face at the same time." Ron's head whipped frantically around to see a mirror and she laughed again. "I'll be right back down," she said, this time looking at Harry. Who was looking at her, standing there in her pajamas and suddenly feeling a whole lot less clothed than she did before.

She shivered. "I'll… be right back," she said again, and made for the stairs, feeling a certain green gaze on her back the entire way there. As she headed for her dormroom, Ginny couldn't help but think that this was going to be _quite_ a talk.

$$$$$$$$$$

**AN:** And there it is!! I leave you with the promise of a talk between friends… an encounter between two different sets of lovers-to-be… and the intrusion of our favorite evil villain.

**Mary-v** – Nope, sorry, Snape's not really into the whole "let's play guidance counselor" He'd rather make Harry clean cauldrons. (evil grin) But I hope this satisfies your desire for Harry to open up…

**Crookshankx** – Our boy's a bit of a masochist, isn't he? Lol.

**Cherryblossom08** – Harry's still got his issues, but I think he's about to turn a corner. Maybe with the help of a good woman?

**MrsSakuraPotter** – Old Lucius was a right nasty sort, wasn't he? (handing over tissues)

**Liquidfyre** – (backing away cautiously) Put the penguin down…

**Moonglaze** – Ron's got a little romantic buried deeeeep inside him. Hee hee.

**Barbelibou** – Lucius wasn't actually at their wedding, he just stole the picture and the rings after everybody else was dead. Lousy bastard… And yes, Dumbledore's going to get into the mix, now that Harry's secret is more or less 'out'. But I'm afraid Ron and Hermione are going to have to do a little more dancing before they get it right.

**Sugarbaby** – I make no promises as to length… (grinning madly) And my apologies for it taking so long. I just like to torture people.

**Shahrezad1** – Oh, not to worry. Something bad will happen… doesn't it always? And knowing our girl Ginny, she'll be MORE than happy to 'comfort' Harry… And I wasn't too fond of that line, either, but I couldn't think of a better way to say it. I wanted Dumbledore to let Harry know that he was aware of _why_ he was down there burning up dummies, and that he agreed with him. Eh. Such are the pitfalls of fan fiction.

**ArianaEvans** – Thank you! I'm always pleased to hear that the characters are staying true to form. And I'm rather fond of 'empty classrooms' myself… heh heh heh…

**FemmeDraconis** – Yep, Ginny was a little freaked at the advice. But what good advice it was…

**Caitlin Cat** – Ah, my name! Well, the first part is a French word which (I believe) translates to something like 'boredom'. That was my mood the day I created the name, lol. And the last is my initials.

**Child-of-scorpio** – No cookies for you! (giving sweet smile) Unless I get that long review…

Hello (Anonymous) – Actually, I don't see Harry as MORE powerful than Dumbledore, just… different. He's got to have something unique about him, according to the prophecy, that will let him battle Voldemort and win. So never fear, the Headmaster is still holding his own. 

**Merit Somnia** – You can find Cara and Draco in "Undercurrents", the second story in the series. Look under my author profile.

**CarissaLynn** – See, this is what reviewers are for. (grinning) I will note the spelling of _Quidditch_ from now on, and I thought it was Seamus' father who was a muggle? Oh, well, let's just pretend…

**Ferggirl99** – About time you got off your butt and reviewed, little sister! And if you don't know how to write Harry and Ginny's little scene, then Josh was a way bigger looser than I thought. Hee hee… As for Lucius, you don't think Voldy would have gone alone, do you? I think he and probably more were there, and when the house got flattened, he grabbed his little souvenirs before hitting the road.

**Liz, hawkeye, hplovah, lluvatar, A Harry and Ginny Dreamer, Maddie, Amanda, GinnyWeasley713, Moonglaze, Ravenmom, The Vampire In The Shadows, Lozzie, carrie, obsessed87, Maddie, Christophe, Ariana15, MusicMonkey88, foxyginny, Godsgirl2480** – Bless you all! My fingers are tired, but yours aren't, so review and enjoy! Thanks…


	16. Tell and Show

AN: Yes. Ok. So it's been a little bit since I updated. Well, this chapter is extra long, and I will promise you another tomorrow, to compensate. All reviews will be answered then!

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Chapter 15

Ginny had to say, she'd been very fast getting dressed. Not to mention quiet, managing to throw on her clothes and find both shoes without waking her slumbering dormmates.

As a result, she could still taste the toothpaste as she came sliding down the stairs, nearly tripping over her shoe-less feet in her haste not to be left behind. Not that she thought they'd do that, but she was taking no chances.

And yet, as fast as she'd been, apparently Harry had been faster because as she stubbed a toe and started to take a header down the last three stairs, familiar strong arms shot out and hauled her against a nice, clean-smelling chest.

"Alright, there?" said a voice over her head, and Ginny tried to shove the blush back down before she looked up. She was unsuccessful, of course.

"Er, yeah," she mumbled as she gazed up into those green eyes. She wasn't sure if she was really seeing it, but they seemed… deeper. Less guarded. Not that she thought Harry would ever be the kind of guy to just lay it all out there; no, he'd been through too much for that to happen. But maybe, just maybe…

She blushed again as she realized she was still cuddling up against him and he was watching her stare at him. "Um, so are we ready to go down?" she said, still not moving. Hey, she might be embarrassed, but she wasn't stupid. She'd take every second she could tucked up in his arms.

Harry slowly eased her to stand on her own feet, looking perhaps a little reluctant, she hoped. "We're waiting on Hermione," he said. Ginny looked over her shoulder and belatedly realized that her brother was leaning against the fireplace, arms crossed, smirking like a moron. She sent him a glare to tell him that one word would get him on the bad side of her wand, and he smirked bigger.

Fortunately for her brother's continued health and welfare, Hermione chose that moment to come down the stairs, _without_ taking a nosedive as Ginny had. Humph. "Right," the Head Girl said, looking at the three of them, "shall we go?"

Harry nodded at her, and they all headed for the door, Ginny still a bit breathless from her lovely close encounter. Hermione, being the astute girl she was, managed to snag Ginny's arm and whisper in her ear as they went down stairs and halls.

"What was that look for?" Hermione whispered.

"I tripped on the stairs and Harry caught me," Ginny whispered back. The boys were a few feet ahead of them, not really saying anything. Her eyes lingered on the messy black head in front of her.

"Oh, really?" Hermione's whisper was loaded with meaning.

Ginny grinned, still watching the back of Harry's head. "Yeah," she said softly.

$$$$$$$$$$

Harry still wasn't completely sure that he was doing the smartest thing, telling Ron and Hermione and Ginny about… everything. But somehow, Ron'd suckered him into that nice moment in the owlry, and now here he was, facing a plate of pancakes, a nearly empty dining hall, and the three people he most wanted safe. Bugger, he thought, and took a bite of some very good pancakes. He was definitely hungry.

Hermione sipped her pumpkin juice. "Well?" she said, arching an eyebrow and fixing him with that rather familiar you're-going-to-tell-me-now-or-else look.

Harry chewed and swallowed, and tried not to sigh. "What do you want to know?" he asked warily.

Hermione pursed her lips. "If we're right, and it's the prophecy that's been making you batty the last year or so."

Harry snorted. "Batty? I'm flattered," he mumbled around another mouthful. Bloody hell, these were good. What did the house elves put in them? He swallowed, and then laid down his fork. "Dumbledore told me the full prophecy after the Department of Mysteries," he said in a low voice, after making sure there really was no one else around. "Basically it says that I'm the only one who can kill Voldemort."

"HAH," Ginny smirked. "We were right." She and Hermione gave each other smug little nods.

Ron nudged Hermione with his elbow, his face still sober. "That's not all it says," his best friend told the two girls.

Two sets of brown eyes fastened themselves on him. "What else?" Ginny demanded, her brows drawing together.

Harry found himself looking at her. Funny, but he'd been doing that a lot this morning. Maybe it was the way her hair was loose and tousled, since she'd taken so little time to comb and fasten it back. It made him want to sink his fingers into it, rub the fiery strands between his fingertips as if he could feel the heat that he knew had to be burning there…

"Neither can live while the other survives," he said abruptly, breaking that train of thought. Now wasn't the time. Both faces paled. He gave them each a little twisted smile. "That's right, I have to kill him, or he's going to kill me. There's only going to be one winner."

There was quiet at the table for a long moment as the girls stared at him, then looked at each other. Harry watched as they seemed to be communicating somehow, Merlin knew how, they _were_ girls, after all. Hermione reached across the table and squeezed Ginny's hand, her lips pulled in a tight line.

"So that's why you've kept trying to keep us out of the fight," Hermione finally said, looking back at Harry. He nodded, resisting the urge to start eating again and have something else to do with his eyes and hands.

"If I go down, that's it. It's over," he said quietly. "And I don't want any of you in the line of fire if that happens."

Ron jumped into the conversation. "Geeze, Harry, you think we'd be safe anywhere else if you lost?" he asked, frowning. Harry looked at him. "I mean, think on it. You're gone, Dumbledore's gone, probably every strong wizard on our side is gone. You think You-Know-Who won't send his pet Deatheaters after all the rest of us who weren't on his side? Hell, with mum and dad being in the order, probably Bill and Charlie, too, we're all going to be on his hit list." He shrugged. "Risk dying helping you, or get hunted down after the fact. Seems a pretty clear choice to me."

Ron started eating again, while Hermione was still looking pale. Ginny was… he chanced a glance at her. She had a look in her eyes he couldn't decipher, and one that he wished he hadn't put there.

Hermione seemed to make an effort and pull herself together. "Ok. So we know the prophecy," she said. "We can start looking up spells and things, find a way that you can beat him…" Her brows snapped together and she glared as Harry suddenly and unexpectedly laughed. "What?" she snapped.

Harry smiled at her, feeling a rush of warmth, of affection for this fiercely loyal and highly determined friend. "Nothing," he told her, letting loose long enough to reach across the table and lightly touch one of her hands. "Just… don't ever change, Hermione."

Somewhat to his alarm, her eyes widened and then got all shiny like she was going to cry. "Oh, _Harry_…" she got out.

Ron shot Harry an alarmed look and then awkwardly reached over and wrapped an arm around the Head Girl. "Hey, Hermione, don't cry, come on. Harry's got this project for you, it's all about spells, you're right…" he fumbled. Harry just sat back and felt uncomfortable.

Hermione sniffed and then glared at Harry. "Why do boys always wait until things are very emotional before they say something like that?" she demanded. Harry figured it was one of those questions she really didn't want answered when she then took a deep breath and seemed to settle down. "You've got spells for me?" she asked.

Apparently she _had_ heard Ron, who, Harry was interested to note, still had his arm around her. And she'd just leaned in closer, putting her head on his shoulder. Hmm… Harry cleared his throat. "Yeah," he said. "I gave Ron the papers last night," he looked at his friend.

"Got them in my bag," Ron said, jerking his head toward the doorway as if to say they were still in the dorm.

Harry nodded. "Part of the package Malfoy gave me," he told her, keenly aware of the still-quiet Ginny next to him, "was this packet of spells. Dark Arts, clearly. In lots of different hands. I made you a copy, and sent one off to Dumbledore last night. I thought you'd be able to look at them and maybe…" he shrugged. "I don't know, get something new from them? I know you haven't done any spellcrafting of your own, but you're the one who'd be most likely to figure that stuff out…"

Hermione's face had gotten more intent as Harry'd talked. It was like watching her brain click on and start powering up to speed. "You've got them upstairs?" she asked Ron, who nodded. Arm still around her. "Give them to me when we go get our things, I've got a free period today and I want to start looking at them as soon as possible."

"Right," Ron agreed. He looked back at Harry and raised a brow. "That wasn't so hard, now, was it, mate?"

Harry grimaced at him. "Shut up," he told him, and Ron grinned.

"I still have a question," Ginny finally spoke up. Harry turned and looked down at her. That look was still there, although a strange kind of… strength? had started to overwhelm it.

"What?" he said, eyes lingering on the curve of her bottom lip.

He watched her swallow. "Where've you been going off to?" she asked. "All those times you come back sweaty and tired, what are you doing?"

He sighed and pulled his eyes away from admiring the smooth pale curve of her cheek. "Room of Requirement," he said, looking back down at his plate and picking up his fork. He took a bite and swallowed. "Training."

"Makes sense," Ron agreed, sounding as if he had a mouthful.

"Swallow first, Ronald," Hermione ordered, and then groaned. Harry grinned. Ron had probably displayed the half-chewed contents of his mouth to her.

Harry took another bite and wondered if he should tell them about his increased abilities. Probably. Ron beat him to it, however.

"Hey, Harry, I think it might be a good idea for us to do some training with you," Ron said. It sounded like he'd swallowed this time. "The better we are, the better we can help you."

Harry looked down at his empty plate and sighed. Rats. Those really were good pancakes. He set his fork down and crossed his arms, leaning forward on them on the table. "Ron, I hate to say it, but I'd end up hurting you," he said softly.

Ron's eyes narrowed. "Why? I'm almost as good as you in Defense, and Hermione's got you beat up the wall in Charms, probably Ginny too…"

Harry was shaking his head. "I… " he blew out a breath. "I think it would be easier to just show you," he finally decided. He glanced at Ron's empty plate, the girls' nearly untouched ones. "You guys done?" he asked.

Hermione nodded, lips set. "If it means getting you to tell us something else, you better believe I'm done," she muttered as she started to get up. Apparently THAT was when Ron realized he'd had his arm around her the whole time, and Harry had to really swallow the snicker. Ron turned beet red and dropped his arm like he'd been hit with lightening. Hah.

"Right," Harry said, getting up as well. "The Room it is, then."

$$$$$$$$$$

Ginny followed a step and a half behind Ron as Harry led them to the Room. They all stood to one side and watched silently as he paced back and forth three times, face set. When the door appeared, he reached out, turned the knob and opened it, and gestured to them all. "After you," he said, a not-quite-smile on his lips.

As she brushed past him, going through the doorway, her arm rubbed against his chest ever so lightly, and she thought she felt him shiver. But that couldn't be right, could it? And then Ginny lost that train of thought as she gazed around the room.

It was a large, empty space. There were several doors on the other side of the room, some kind of padding on the floor. As she looked around, one of the doors opened and some kind of dummy, she guessed, came out and seemed to position itself.

Harry sighed behind her, and she jumped just a bit. "Right. Well, showing you is easier," he said. Ginny turned around in time to see him shucking his shoes toward the wall, as he pulled his robe and then his tie and sweater off. "Gin, would you hold these?" he asked, standing there in his socks and shirt.

She had to swallow. Oh, he had grown up nicely. "Sure," she said, holding out her arms. He laid the garments in her hands, and then turned to Ron and Hermione.

"You'd all better stand over there, by the windows," he said. "And put up a good shield spell, just in case." Hermione raised her eyebrows quizzically, but pulled on Ron's sleeve until he followed her. Ginny trailed after the two, not taking her eyes away from Harry, who was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking mighty uncomfortable.

Harry waited until Hermione had done the shield spell, and then cleared his throat. "Right," he said, and turned toward the dummy. As Ginny watched it was as if he shifted into a different person, cool, smoothly moving and totally focused. "_Animate_," he said, hands still in his pockets, and the dummy suddenly sprang to life. A bolt of yellow light streaked toward Harry, and Ginny nearly shrieked in alarm, but he didn't move. Instead, he stood with his hands in his pockets still and murmured something, she couldn't catch what. The yellow light suddenly reversed its path and sped back toward the dummy.

What proceeded to follow was a dizzying volley of spells, most of which Ginny didn't know. Harry moved from side to side, sometimes ducking his head, all the while watching the dummy fly about the other side of the room while apparently trying to kill him. It took a few minutes before Ginny really registered what was truly going on.

"Oh heavens," she breathed.

"He's not using his wand," Hermione said for her in a soft voice, somewhat awed.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered.

"Language, Ron," Hermione said absently, eyes still narrowed and intent on what was going on. "Is it just me, or is he toying with that thing?"

"I think he is," Ginny realized, clutching Harry's robe a bit too hard and probably wrinkling it. "He's showing us just what he can do."

Ron snorted. "Merlin, takes this damn long to get him to open up, and now he's showing off? Oi, Potter," he shouted, loud enough for Harry to hear. "We get the point, wrap it up now."

Harry glanced at the three of them, a neutral look on his face, and nodded. "_Finite incantatem_," he said, and the dummy collapsed to the floor. "Funny," he said into the now silent and still room. "That's the first one I haven't incinerated in a while."

Hermione choked. "Incinerated? And just _WHERE_, Mr. Potter, did you learn those spells? And how long have you known you could cast them without your wand? And WHY THE BLOODY HELL DIDN'T YOU TELL US???"

Ron coughed. "Uh, Hermione? That last question? Kinda dumb," he said, and winced as she turned her glare on him. "Well, I mean…"

Harry broke in as he walked over to where his shoes were laying and bent to pick them up. "It started maybe a year and a half, two years ago, Hermione," he said. "I'm not really sure. I just started to realize that things were coming easier, quicker. And then one day, Fifth year, after the Department of Mysteries, I was up here and wandered into the room to be alone." He shrugged a little and bent to put his right shoe on. "I got mad and for some reason tried to curse the bookcase in the corner, only I didn't have my wand out. It exploded." He started to lace his left shoe. "As for the spells, I've been doing some reading over the summer."

He straightened up with a grim smile. "After all, I've got to be ready for my damned destiny, don't I?"

Ron was studying the dummy, slouched down in the corner. "You know, Har," he said thoughtfully. "I still think we should train with you." He shook his head at Harry as the other boy raised an eyebrow. "Nah, I don't mean head to head, you'd pulverize us. I get that. But since we're going to be in this war, one way or another, I think we ought to start getting ready, too."

"Everyone should," Ginny suddenly said, and then flushed a bit as the other three turned back to her. She looked at Harry, his green eyes guarded and neutral. "Dumbledore's Army," she told him. "I know we gave it up last year, because Bill was an actual real Defense teacher, but I really think we should start it up again."

Harry's face was rather blank. "I don't think anyone else should know about what I can do," he said.

Ginny shook her head. "That's not what I'm talking about," she said. "I mean the rest of us, you need to get the rest of us working on getting better. Neville, Luna, Dean, Cara… you think they won't be on the front lines, too? Or at least on someone's hit list?" She clutched his cloak tighter and nodded decisively. "It's exactly what we need."

Ron was scratching his chin. "She's right," he said. "And while it really burns me to say it, we should get Malfoy to come, too." Hermione gave an audible gasp. Ron looked at her and shrugged sheepishly. "What, he's not a deatheater, and for sure someone's going to want to get him. Plus I bet he knows some really nasty hexes."

Hermione seemed to get shiny eyed. "Oh, Ron," she said, almost sounding teary. "I'm so very proud of you," and then she flung herself at him and tried to hug him to death. Ron just grunted in reflex and turned pink, and hugged her back.

Harry was standing still as a statue listening. Ginny resisted the urge to fling herself at him, as well, and instead said in her most persuasive voice, "Think about it, Harry. We started it for a reason the first time. Isn't the reason even more important now?"

Harry's eyes trained on her, like twin green light beams that caught her and held her motionless. Her head began to ache just the tiniest bit, and then was gone. She gazed back at him, trying to see into him, trying to understand what he was thinking. And then he sighed. "Maybe," he said. "I don't know if I can do it, though."

Ron had finally stopped being hugged, but was still pink around the ears. "If you really don't want it, we can run things," he said. His face got serious. "But people are going to look to you, Harry, whether you like it or not. And if they don't see you leading the fight, they may not take it seriously."

Hermione broke in then. "We'll have to think about it, how it would work, if you want to do it, ok Harry?" she said. There was a sudden chirping sound and they all jumped in surprise. "Oh, we'll be late for Potions," Hermione gasped, shoving her sleeve up and glancing at her watch. "Come on Ron, let's go get our bags and you can give me those papers."

Ginny hung back as Ron and Hermione hurried out the door. "Here," she said quietly, holding out his sweater, tie and robe.

The door swung shut behind the other two and she suddenly realized that she was standing alone in a room with Harry. And that the last time they'd been like this, it had gotten so hot she'd hardly been able to stand it afterward. Ginny blushed.

Harry simply stood and studied her, not taking his things out of her outstretched arms. "I don't know what to do about you," he finally said, slowly.

Ginny's heart started to beat faster. "What do you mean?" she said, keeping her eyes on him. She was afraid if she looked away, he'd vanish. After all, this was far too much like the start of certain dreams she'd had.

"You," he said, tilting his head and keeping his eyes on her. "You're… making things hard," he finally decided.

Ginny wanted to smack her head, no, _HIS_ head in frustration. "You always did have a way with words," she muttered. And then blushed. Oops. Hadn't meant to say that out loud.

Harry didn't laugh, like she half expected. Instead he took a couple of steps closer to her, still studying her. "Ron says I don't really get a choice about this either," he said, sounding like he was thinking aloud. Another couple of steps. Ginny stayed rooted in one place. "That you'd make it impossible to protect you, that you already did, actually." He frowned deeper. "That's why it's hard."

Two more steps and he was only a few feet away. "What do _you_ want, Harry?" Ginny nearly whispered. It felt like time had stopped, that the pendulum was hanging still and silent and waiting for whatever would happen next.

He was still frowning. "What do I want? I want a lot of things, but basically all of them I can't have." Another step, and another. He was only a foot away, and Ginny barely registered dropping his clothes limply to the floor. "But you, you're hard," he said, almost to himself.

Ginny had to take a deep breath. And then another. She was getting light headed. "Harry," she said softly. "Do you want me?" And started to pray.

He stopped where he was, bare inches from her, and looked down into her face. There was a mildly surprised expression on his face. "Of course," he said simply. And then he made her heart stop and her blood sing as he lifted one hand and reached out to finger a lock of her hair. "How could I not?"

Ginny felt tears prick her eyes; it was all just far too much. Harry's face rapidly shifted to alarm. "Don't cry," he said. "God, please don't cry." Anxiety filled his voice as he dropped the lock of hair. As if he didn't know what to do, he slid his arms around her and pressed her face into his shirt. "Please don't cry."

"You jerk," Ginny muttered into his shirt front, tears still stinging her eyes and one or two getting out despite her best efforts. "Do you know how many bloody YEARS I've been waiting for you to say that?"

A warm, strong hand closed about her chin and tilted her head up. "Well, then," Harry said, and then he kissed her.

That was it. Fireworks went off, birds started singing, stars exploded. All from one hell of a hot and tender kiss. Ginny fisted her hands in his shirt and just held on for dear life. Oh… goodness… dimly registered through her mind. She'd thought it had been a good kiss before, but this was so much… more.

His mouth was firm and soft as he tasted hers, coaxing hers open so their tongues could mingle and taunt. The kiss got deeper and wetter and she thought he groaned, but was a little too distracted to pay much attention. She was not only mesmerized by the kiss, but she'd managed to get one hand buried in that soft, crazy hair of his and the other clutched against his chest.

One of his hands slid to her lower back, pulling her closer against him and it was Ginny's turn to groan as they pressed intimately together. Oh… she thought dimly. She'd dated before, she had some idea about boys and their bodies and what they liked, but this wasn't like that. This was hotter and wilder and so much more important that any of that. She could feel him hard against her belly, and thrilled to know that it was her causing that reaction.

His mouth left hers and slid down her neck, making her gasp as he gently bit the skin at the base of her neck. "Oh," slipped out as she shivered, tipping her head back.

Harry seemed to growl something, and then buried his face in her neck. "We have class," he said in a raspy voice, not moving.

Ginny shuddered as his breath slipped over her skin. "Yeah," she said in a weak voice. Her hand on his chest unclenched and she stroked, ever so lightly. She was absurdly delighted when it was his turn to shudder as her fingers trailed over those lovely muscles.

He finally took a deep breath and stepped away, keeping one hand wrapped around her waist. "Meet me here, after dinner," he said. Those green eyes were nearly glowing as he looked down at her, and Ginny would have told him yes to anything.

"Ok," she said, staring back up at him. Then she took a deep breath, then another and then stepped back herself, his hand falling away. "I should go… to class," she decided.

He just watched her with those hot eyes. "Yeah," he said.

She swallowed. Hard. "I should really go," she repeated.

"Go," he said. Still watching her.

Finally she just turned and fled out the door, making herself race for Gryffindor Tower and her bookbag rather than stay and throw herself at Harry again. Tonight… she thought as she ran. Oh, Merlin.

$$$$$$$$$$

Harry was stooping to pick up his tie and sweater when it hit him. Perhaps because he'd been so completely focused on Ginny, and hadn't compensated for the distraction.

There was a low, filthy laugh in his head, and it made him stagger. Voldemort, he thought, clenching his teeth. Bloody damn.

Images started to bombard him, one after another. Past, present, future… they all ran together and came so fast and furious that it nearly sent him to his knees. Instead, Harry pulled himself straight, and reached for his control.

_You and me,_ he thought as clearly as he could. Not sure if it would make it to the man he intended it to. _We have unfinished business._

The answer came, so cold and clear that it sent him reeling and gasping for breath. _I choose the time and place, Potter,_ that dark, silky voice said in his mind. _I choose, and you die_.

And then it was all gone. Everything was clear again, and there was no one in his mind except himself. Harry bent over, breathing hard.

Voldemort had left one picture behind him. Hogwarts. The towers and turrets ablaze, stone beginning to crumble. Bodies in school robes all about. And red eyes, gleaming over it all.

Once again, Harry reached for his tie. So it would be Hogwarts, he thought. Very well, then.


	17. Marking Time

AN: Did I say Friday? Clearly, I meant Saturday….

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Chapter 16

If Harry was a little restrained in Potions, he figured his friends would put it down to good ol' Snape's always pleasant company. He had to shove his new 'vision' aside and focus, since they were all nearly done with the Wolfsbane Potion. He'd be damned if his inattention to what he was doing would screw Lupin over somehow. He'd muttered something along those lines to Ron as they'd started class, only to loose another ten points for talking. Frankly, he was waiting for Snape to just take off points for breathing.

Next to him, Malfoy was cool and calm and sitting back, watching a probably perfect potion steam in his cauldron. Bloody Malfoy.

Harry double checked the amount of ginger root that was to go in, and then carefully stirred counter-clockwise with the twelve-inch wooden spoon. He peered into the cauldron and watched as the potion hissed lightly. Well, it looked like he hadn't screwed this one up, that was something, he supposed, sitting down in his chair.

He crossed his arms and surveyed the classroom without seeing it. In actuality, he was thinking about what had happened before class. Hogwarts… it was going to be the place. Harry frowned in though. If that was the case, then what had been with the vision about wolves and the Forbidden Forrest?

He rubbed his temples. Crickey, it was enough to send him over the edge. Hogwarts, Forbidden Forrest. Either way, it would be close to home. Probably he should tell Dumbledore.

As if in answer to his thought, there was a knock at the classroom door, and Snape barked from his desk, "Enter!"

A little third year Hufflepuff, he wasn't really sure what her name was, pushed the door open. "Sorry, Professor," she said in a timid little voice, "but Professor Dumbledore would like to see Harry Potter when most convenient."

The keen dark eyes of the Potion Master shot to Harry's. "Oh, really?" he murmured. Then he gave the girl a terse nod. "Finish and bottle it, Potter, then you may go." The girl scampered away, and Harry was left to gaze consideringly back at Snape. No nasty comment? He thought. Nothing snarky and mean to say?

A slight smile curved Snape's mouth, not a very nice one. _You're slipping today_, suddenly resounded in his head. Harry's eyes narrowed and with a quick mental flip he tossed Snape out. Dammit, he was.

As a result, Harry spent the rest of the time as he waited for the potion to reach just the right consistency rebuilding his walls. Brick by brick by brick, shoring them up, making them deeper and thicker and taller. He tested them a bit by probing Snape's mind just before he went to bottle. He gave a grin toward his tabletop as he felt the older man's return salvo bounce right off. Much better.

He finally packed his things and headed for the front of the classroom, bottle of Wolfsbane in hand. "For the sake of the werewolf it's going to, I dearly hope you've done the potion correctly, Potter," Snape said as he took the potion, nasty little smirk on his face. "You have read the side effects of an improperly brewed potion, have you not?"

Harry didn't give the old bat the satisfaction of watching him flinch. "Yes, sir," he said in a bored tone. "May I go now, Professor?" Snape jerked his head toward the door in response, and so Harry escaped.

He found Dumbledore wandering about in the corridor leading to his office. "Ah, Harry," the Headmaster said with a smile. Blue eyes twinkled through those ever-present spectacles. "I trust you were not too disappointed to be excused from the remainder of your potions class?"

That got Harry to crack a reluctant grin. "No, Professor," he said, rather dryly. He didn't think Snape had been all that sad, either.

Those eyes twinkled even brighter. "Well, then, let us repair to my office, shall we? I believe we have a few things to discuss." Harry looked at the old man, and then resisted the urge to sigh. All this talking. Frankly, he was starting to miss last year when he didn't have to tell anyone anything.

Dumbledore turned to the gargoyle and said, "Dairy milk," and then led the way up the stairs. Harry followed, wondering just what they were going to say.

$$$$$$$$$$$

Ginny was more than a little distracted during Charms, and had to be nudged several times by Cara when Flitwick was looking their direction. Honestly, how could she be expected to concentrate on the Camouflage Charm at the moment?

Finally, Cara grabbed a blank piece of parchment and a quill and scribbled a note before shoving it in front of Ginny.

_What's up with you this morning?_

Ginny grimaced and debated not answering, but Cara poked her in the thigh with her quill and glared. Okay, that idea was no good. She bit her lip and picked up her own quill.

_Harry talked to us this morning_, she finally wrote.

Cara's eyebrows shot up. _And?_

Ginny shot a glance toward Flitwick to make sure he wasn't looking their way. _Can't tell you it all_, she scribbled. _But we might be restarting the DA._

Cara beamed at that. _Yes!_

Ginny grinned. _Ron even said we should ask Malfoy_. Cara's jaw dropped and she bit back the snicker. _Yeah, I know._

_Is your brother finally growing up_?

Ginny rolled her eyes. _Nah_, she wrote. Then she hesitated. There was another poke to her leg. She sighed and wrote again. _Harry kissed me_, she finally scrawled.

Now a hand grabbed her leg and Ginny jumped in her seat, glaring and blushing. Cara was grinning wickedly. _And_?

She blushed again. _He asked me to meet him after dinner_, she confessed, feeling the excitement and nerves bubble up again.

"All right!" Cara crowed, and then froze, eyes huge and horrified. Every eye in the room had turned to her, and Professor Flitwick was looking bemused and curious.

"Yes, Miss McDouglas?" the tiny professor asked, flitting towards them.

Cara hastily laid her quill over the scribbled notes and swallowed. "Um, yes. Well. I, uh, was…"

"Excited because she thinks she's finally figured out how to do the Camouflage Charm, Professor," Ginny supplied.

"Exactly!" Cara said in relief. Then realized what she'd said. "Oh. Wait. Um…"

"Well, then, Miss McDouglas, let's have you step up to the front of the class and be our first demonstrator," Flitwick said cheerfully. "Come on now, we've plenty of class time to spend on this."

Cara gulped, because they had most definitely NOT been discussing the Camouflage Charm, and got up, giving Ginny a glare as she did. Ginny just sat back and grinned. Hah. Maybe she _could_ concentrate on Charms now.

$$$$$$$$$$

Harry strolled into the dining hall for lunch, thoughtful. Dumbledore had started their 'talk' by telling him about what the Order was doing. Various people were trying to find Peter Pettigrew, in the hopes of squeezing some kind of weakness about Voldemort out of him. Dumbledore had mentioned research that was going on about the spell used to resurrect him, that they were trying to find a flaw in the process. Harry had sat and listened, taking it all in with narrowed eyes.

What had finally decided him had been the fact that Dumbledore hadn't pressed him at all. No, he'd discussed and informed Harry of the facts as if he were the crucial member of the war that he truly was. That bit of inclusion, of… respect, he guessed, had tipped the scales for him.

Harry had told Dumbledore of Lucius Malfoy's journal, how it was full of his notes on the resurrection spell. They'd agreed to make a copy and send it off to the people studying it. Harry didn't have names, but that didn't bother him so much. It was more that he just needed to know it was happening.

They'd discussed the spells he'd sent to Dumbledore. Harry mentioned that he'd given Hermione a copy, and somewhat to his surprise, Dumbledore has agreed it had been a good decision. He had no doubt that Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger would insist on their involvement, the headmaster had said, and spell research was certainly an area Miss Granger could be of great help in.

Then Harry'd sat back and considered. He'd been comfortable so far. He'd felt a part of things, felt that Dumbledore was keeping his word and not holding things back. And so he'd told him about the two visions. The first, the one that had come piece by piece of the wolves and Deatheaters and the Forbidden Forrest, and the second, of Hogwarts destroyed.

Dumbledore had gotten very quiet at that, sitting back and considering. The old man had finally shook his head and told Harry that he had no answers for him, only questions that could no be finished. And now Harry was heading for lunch, still contemplating the whole thing.

"Oi, Harry," Ron hollered. "What are you doing, you're walking right past the food!"

Harry blinked and then grinned, sure enough, he'd walked ten feet past where Ron and Hermione were sitting.

Hermione looked at him anxiously as he sat down beside her. "How did it go?" she asked, a bit cautiously.

Harry gave her a reassuring look as he reached for the platter of sandwiches. "Fine," he said. "We talked." He looked at Ron and rolled his eyes. "I seem to be doing an awful lot of that lately," he muttered, taking a bite of turkey and bread. Yum.

"You're making up for lost time," Ron smirked, his own mouth full.

Hermione daintily ate a few slices of fruit. "So what next?" she asked.

Harry swallowed and shrugged. "He thinks you working on the spells is a good idea," he said.

Hermione blushed. "'Course it is," Ron said. "Bloody hell, who else could they get who'd understand what was going on?"

"Now Ron," Hermione began, still looking very pleased. "You know they probably have lots of very talented researchers working on those spells. I AM still just a student, you know."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Hermione, saying you're just a student is like saying Harry's just a wizard." Harry grinned as Hermione pinked up again.

He glanced about the table, realizing he didn't see Ginny. "Where's Ginny?" he asked, taking another bite.

"She and Cara were in and out a few minutes ago, bickering about something in Charms," Hermione said. "They took sandwiches and left."

Ron was looking very, well, crafty, Harry supposed. "Any particular reason you're interested in the whereabouts of my sister, Potter?"

Harry gave him a bland look. "No more than why you're always wondering where Hermione here is." That sent both people bright red. My work here is done, he thought with a grin. Grabbing a second sandwich, he got up from the table. "I'm going to run back to the dorm," he said to the top of Ron's bent head as he stared down at his plate. "I forgot my Herbology book for this afternoon." He gave Hermione, who was blushing and had a definite gleam in her eye, a wicked look. "You two have fun now. I'll see you in class."

Whistling, he headed out of the Great Hall. Ah, sometimes it was good to be him.

$$$$$$$$$$

Quidditch practice had been agonizingly long. Ginny had spent the whole time trying not to fall off her broom as her eyes were glued to the Captain and seeker. Bloody hell, she'd gotten a nasty whack from a bludger as she'd watched Harry talking plays with Ron. Stupid, she berated herself.

She'd opted out of going to dinner, knowing she'd never be able to eat. Cara had dashed downstairs, saying she'd be right back to help Ginny get ready. And so now Ginny was standing in the shower, scrubbing and shaving and basically trying to drown herself.

With a sigh, Ginny shut the water off and stepped out, wrapping a towel around her head and another around her body. She wiped steam off the mirror and glared at her reflection. What had happened to the bold girl who'd walked up to Harry in the common room and planted a kiss on him in front of the whole house? Honestly, here she was, dithering and nervous because he had _finally_ and realized what had been staring him in the face for six years?

"Get a grip, Ginny," she told her reflection. "You're a Weasley. Where's that Gryffindor pride?" She gave a decisive nod. "No more wishy-washy. You give as good as you get, and make sure you get what you want."

She grinned, and then started for the bedroom to get dressed. Oh, this would be a good night.

She was still thinking that as she walked up to the door of the Room of Requirement and carefully turned the handle. Taking a last deep breath, she smoothed her hair, and then opened the door and stepped inside.

This time it wasn't a bare practice room. No, this time it was small and cosy, with a deep, soft couch in front of a dancing fire. She looked around bemusedly.

From the shadows by the window, a tall figure straightened and started toward her. "Ginny," Harry said softly, and her breath caught.

She gave a small smile and said back, "Harry."

$$$$$$$$$$

AN: Aren't I awful? Heh heh heh…

**Crookshankx** – hee hee hee… I'm so evil. And I recommend lots of chocolate to deal with writers block.

**Lillypotterfan** – Neville and Luna will get involved soon, but not a great deal. Or rather, you're not going to see a lot of them. Aw, heck, you just keep reading and see. Lol.

**Child-of-scorpio** – You got your computer fixed? Huzzah! (passing out party hats) And Ron. Ah, yes, Ron. My sister's completely obsessed with Weasleys, and I think I'm getting a little crush on Ronniekins myself. Lol. He's such a typical boy: 'manly' outside, marshmallow inside. (sigh)

**Shahrezad1** – Cookies!!!

**Ferggirl99** – Now since when have I ever written anything that allowed the course of true love to run smoothly? And I would hope Marion would have enough, um, _imagination_, to write that scene. (coughs lightly) Did I mention that 'I' could have written it at that age?

**IceSugarHigh** – No worries, Harry doesn't get a magic ring. Lol. He's going to have to do everything the hard way… hee hee hee…

**Ariana15** – Glad you enjoyed the previous tales as well! Keep reading and reviewing…

**Siriuslover** – Look under my author profile for the two prequels, "Hidden Intents" (SSOC), and "Undercurrents" (DMOC).

**A Harry and Ginny Dreamer** – (grins) I can assure you, all chapters are completely mine. Yeah, I can sometimes let a little time go between updates (looking sheepish), but sometimes that lets me go back and reacquaint myself with what I've already written. I find that helps me not loose the various plot threads I have going.

**Maurauder23** – A friend recommended it? Tell them thanks! As for Harry being a bit angsty… he's a teenager. And lord knowns (rolling eyes), teenagers have just the SLIGHTEST tendency to make a big deal out of everything. (ducking as all teenaged readers fling half-eaten donuts) And Ron and Hermione… I've got a thing or two up my sleeve for them. I don't want to give away secrets, but I'll just say three words: Ron attempts romance. Heh heh heh…

**S** – I actually don't maintain links, it's all They sometimes do work, or change various things and that will mess with links for a little while. Give it a day or two, then try again.

**Psycho-punk** – You know people who know people? Do those people know the people who know my people? Lol. Just kidding. Keep reading!

**Barbelibou** – Ron is… slow. Yes. Slow. But please see comment to Maurauder23…

**Charmeuse** – Ah, suspense. I do love it. Heh heh heh.

**Kokopelli5287** – How very insightful of you! Keeping Harry a teen in some real sense is exactly what I am trying to do. I mean, sure he's got to save the world and go kill some homicidal red-eyed jerk, but he's still seventeen. And anyone who's known a seventeen year-old knows what I'm talking about. (Again ducking the half-eaten donuts)

**Social-flutterby** – I just love all these word of mouth, friend recommendations! All you friends who are passing along my story, THANKS!

**Severus' Wife** – Hmm, can I guess who your personal fav character is? Lol. And if you're the boss, then you're not wasting time. You're… maintaining managerial moral. (nodding decisively) And, um, can you put the wand down now?

Foxyginny, hazardous, twins-rule, hawkeyessabre, mary-v, cherryblossom08, she-hobbit, MrsSakuraPotter, Liz, Lozzie, mynameispinky, hplovah, lluvatar, MusicMonkey88, Tooki, Moonglaze, obsessed87, Openspy,VirginiaLilyPotter713, flaming pinecones, kpxiceboi, elijah'stheone, xayne – All of you, thank you so much! It's your ego-stroking enthusiasm that makes me get up on Saturday morning, when I'm supposed to be doing other things, to finish this chapter and get it posted. Well, that and the opportunity to torture you all. Heh heh heh…


	18. Girls and Boys

AN: WARNING! NOW WE BEGIN WHY I RATED THE STORY!! (So be prepared…)

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Chapter 17

Cara was whistling as she came in through the portrait, lugging her overloaded bag of books. She wasn't about to have to go to the library for the next couple of weeks, that was for sure.

As the portrait closed behind her with a click, a head with wildly rumpled red hair shot up from the far corner, behind one of the couches. Cara blinked at the panicky look on Ron's face, that then went limp with relief.

"Uh, you ok, Ron?" she asked, dropping her bag with a thud. Hell, she wasn't carrying that anymore. It was going to be _wingardium leviosa_ all the way up the stairs to the dorm.

Ron glanced rather wildly around the empty room. "Cara. You're a girl, right?"

Cara's eyebrows shot up. "Last time I checked," she said rather dryly. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what was going on, anymore.

"Girls like flowers, right?" Ron asked, rather anxiously.

Oooh, maybe she _did_ want to know. "Yes," she said, walking over to kneel on the couch and peer over the back at him. "Why?" He was sitting on the floor, a little pile of twigs in front of him.

"Flowers. I can do flowers," he was muttering. "Simple spell. Did it in third year. Piece of cake." Cara grinned as Ron poked his tongue into one cheek, making it bulge, and held up one stick while pointing his wand. "_Modificus florus_." Instead of the daisy that should have appeared, the twig seemed to sprout two leaves and about five petals. While remaining a rather sickly brown.

Ron tossed the 'flower' into the fireplace. "Bloody idiot," he muttered. Apparently he no longer remembered Cara was there. "Can't even do a stupid spell right. What's the point, never going to work anyway…"

Cara decided it was time Ron got a little help. Because mercy knew, he needed it. She reached over and lightly hit him upside the head. "Take your tongue out of your cheek," she told him as he jerked his head around and stared at her, clearly startled to find her there. "You're mumbling."

Ron flushed. "Right, right." He picked up another stick and squinted at it. "_Modificus florus_." This time he didn't mumble, but he did miss the stick and instead hit the wall, promptly causing a daisy to appear on the formerly red and gold wallpaper.

Cara tsked. "You seem a little tense, Ron," she said, perhaps a little sweetly. After all, teasing Ginny's brother was something to be savored. "Any particular reason you're trying to make daisies?"

Ron turned redder, and then grumbled something under his breath. Cara grinned. "Come on, Ron, tell cousin Cara all about it," she said, propping her arms over the back of the sofa and smirking down at him. "As you so astutely realized a few minutes ago, I AM a girl, and therefore can offer advice on the ways and means of other girls. Even, perhaps, those with curly hair and above average intelligence?"

Now Ron matched the wallpaper, sans daisy. Hmm. This WAS fun. "HermionekeepskissingmeandIthoughtIdgiveheraflower," he finally mumbled. Heh heh heh.

"What was that? I couldn't quite hear," Cara said sweetly.

Ron lifted his head and glared at her. "What am I talking to you for? You're my sister's friend."

Cara inspected her nails. "And privy to quite a few little interesting tidbits, if I do say so. After all, Ginny and I tell each other nearly everything, and Hermione DOES like to join in…"

Ron's eyes were narrowing. "Do _you_ know what Hermione's been doing, with all the kissing?"

Cara gave a rather modest smile. "Oh, I might," she said. Ron glared. She rolled her eyes. "Think about it Ron," she said, with no small amount of exasperation. Honestly. Boys. They were SO thick. "Why does a girl usually kiss a guy?"

"Because she likes him," Ron said. Then his eyes got bigger. "Oh. OH."

"And light dawns on Marblehead," Cara said dryly. That got her a confused look. "Muggle thing," she said, waving her hand. "It was an insult, trust me. So, Ronnie, I'm assuming from the pile of not-yet-daisies that you fancy Hermione a bit in return?" She waited with baited breath. As far as she knew, no one had gotten Ron to admit it yet. Not even Harry.

Ron glared down at his pile of sticks. "Shut up," he muttered.

Cara grinned, catlike. "Is that a yes?" she asked. "Because I'm always willing to help in the pursuit of true love. And I'm particularly good at Charms. And have heard quite a few interesting things about a certain Head Boy from a certain Head Girl, that I could eventually be persuaded to share…"

NOW she had his attention. "Hermione said something?" he asked, looking anxious. "What? She thinks I'm an ugly git, doesn't she? I'm kind of stupid, too, especially next to her. And Harry. Bloody hell." And he was back to staring at his sticks.

Cara rolled her eyes. "Ron, have you NO self esteem?" she said. She wagged her finger at him. "All right. I'll give you one little tidbit, but I want to hear you say it."

"Say what?" Ron asked, rather densely.

Boys. Idiots. "Do you fancy Hermione?" Good grief, she couldn't be more blunt. And, of course, Ron went red and stared down at his sticks. "Well?"

He mumbled something. Cara gave a little 'ahem' and waited expectantly. Girls were way better at getting things like this than boys. She should have siced Ginny on Ron ages ago, and they wouldn't have had to wait around on Harry to do the job.

Ron finally sighed. "Yeah," he muttered at the floor.

Cara resisted the urge to do a victory dance. "About time you said it," she told him. And then grinned. After all, she did promise him a little something… "Especially since Hermione's spent far too many evenings in our dorm, mooning over how nice you look in your Quidditch uniform."

Now that red head shot straight up, and the Head Boy started to grin. "She did?"

Cara tried not to laugh. "Yep," she said cheerfully. "So get busy on those daisies, boy. How are you giving them to her?"

"Er," Ron said, looking embarrassed. "I hadn't gotten that far yet."

Cara heaved a sigh. "Honestly, would any romance happen around here if it wasn't for me?" she asked of the ceiling. "Ginny and Harry, Ron and Hermione… Everyone would still be lovelorn and pining."

"Ginny and Harry? Hey, wait a minute, where is my sister?" Ron said, starting to frown.

Cara reached over and whacked up upside the head as he made to get up. "No. Sit. Stay," she told him firmly. "Ginny's a big girl, and Harry's going to look after her." Cara couldn't resist. "Besides, you probably don't want to see what's going on right now, anyway." Ron's face started to turn purple and Cara finally laughed.

"Oh, let it go, Ron," she chortled. "How do you think Harry feels about you panting after Hermione?" She waggled her eyebrows. "He doesn't really want to see _that_, either." Ron looked torn between wanting to chase down his sister and lock her in a tower and being embarrassed. Hah. "Now," she ordered, pointing at his sticks. "Make daisies." Because there was a whole lot more fun for her to have.

$$$$$$$$$$

Ginny stood there, by the door, and just soaked in looking at Harry. He was standing over by the window, hands shoved in his pockets, hair looking more rumpled than usually, like he'd been pulling on it. She started to smile. He was nervous.

"So," she said softly. "Here I am."

Harry was still a bit away, having seemed to stop moving, but she could swear she saw him swallow. "Yeah," he said. Hmm. Sounding a bit hoarse.

She had a cure for that, Ginny thought. One involving a little mouth-to-mouth. She cocked her head at Harry, giving him her best smile. She'd waited a bit too long for this to let him get out of doing things properly. "Do you want to say anything to me, Harry?" she asked, prompting him. After all, a girl had fantasies. Quite a few, after six years, in fact.

He seemed to be staring at her, not quite paying attention. "You… you look really pretty," he finally said. Ginny blushed. Ahah. All that primping hadn't been for nothing. His eyes wandered down away from her face and she could feel the blush spreading. And with the dress she'd borrowed from Cara, she was pretty sure he could see it…

Harry finally looked up. "Really pretty," he said, rather thickly. But of course, still didn't move.

Ginny gave him a soft smile, and what she hoped was an encouraging look. "Harry?" she asked quietly. "Would you come over here and kiss me?" One thing Cara had said as she'd been getting dressed was to remember that boys could be very, very thick and might need explicit directions. Especially to get started. Of course, then Cara had gone off on a rather disturbing tangent involving Draco Malfoy and a certain evening in the Astronomy Tower, that if Ginny thought about right now, she might loose what little dinner she'd eaten.

Harry's eyes were still fastened on her face. "I could do that," he said quietly, taking a few steps closer. Apparently the 'needs directions' bit had been right.

Ginny smoothed her hands down the sides of her dress. And waited as Harry moved step by slow step toward her. The waiting was killing her. Her palms were sweating, her heart pounding, and she was dreadfully afraid that she might have to sit down. And then he was standing right in front of her. Ginny looked up at those green eyes, gleaming in the firelight with an odd sort of glow that sent a thrill right through her.

Harry seemed to hesitate as he lifted a hand toward her face. "Are you sure, Gin?" he asked, voice rather thick. "It's not too late, you could stay a whole lot safer if you stayed away from me. I mean…"

Ginny resisted the urge to punch him, and instead made her point a different way. "Harry, shut up," she told him. And reached up to tug on his collar and pressed her lips to his.

That seemed to do the trick. His hand finally curled around the nape of her neck, the other sliding around her waist and Ginny shivered as she was pulled against that tall, Quidditch-toned body. He was most decidedly kissing her back now, his mouth hot and hungry as her own, and it sent her senses reeling. Every kiss with him just got better and better, she thought hazily, as his lips caressed hers.

With a bit of a moan that she couldn't stop, Ginny parted her lips, wanting more. And then she got more. The kiss got fiercer and hungrier and deeper and wetter, their tongues tangling and tasting. His advanced and retreated, teasing her, savoring her. Ginny wound her arms about his neck and pressed closer, feeling an ache in her body begin. She wanted to be nearer, hotter. She wanted more.

The hand at his waist began to smooth up and down her back, discovering where the back ended and bare skin began. Ginny shuddered as warm fingertips began to trace and stroke along the edges of the back, and let her own hands wander down his neck to loosen his tie. She wanted her hands on some of his skin, wanted to feel his blood pulsing beneath her hands.

He kissed her harder, pressing against her mouth almost painfully as his fingers clutched at her. Ginny moaned, the sound slipping out of her throat. The tie came loose and she slid her hands inside the small opening of his shirt, stroking along his collarbone and throat. His skin was hot, almost as hot as she felt right now. Certain parts of her body were starting to melt and shiver, as if they needed something.

His hands slipped to the edges of the opening of her dress along her back, and then dipped under the edges. He traced slowly, so slowly up her sides, making her burn and groan at the feeling. And then his hands touched the sides of her breasts and stopped.

"Gin?" he said, pulling his head back, voice husky, breathing a bit hard. Ginny was rather short on breath herself as her body seemed tense, coiled, waiting for his hands to move.

Frankly, they were going to have to work on his timing for wanting to talk, she thought, as she reached one hand up and yanked his head back down to hers. Now was NOT the time.

Harry seemed to groan, and then he was kissing her again, those deep, wet kisses that she didn't think she'd ever get enough of. She fumbled with one of the buttons on his shirt, wanting her hands on more of him, craving the feeling of skin over muscles that were tensed and waiting. All for her.

And then his hands moved, pressing under the fabric of her dress, pulling it almost uncomfortably. But she didn't notice, in fact, she'd about stopped breathing as his hands moved a little clumsily, a little hesitantly over her breasts. Ginny shuddered with sensation, head spinning and forgetting nearly everything else but the feeling of his hands on her skin.

And then they went stumbling backward and somehow managed to end up on the couch before the fire. Ginny didn't know how it had happened, but she found herself staring up into hot green eyes, his shirt halfway open, tie dangling loosely about his neck, still caught in the collar.

And he was gazing down at her, with this look of… amazement? wonder? Whatever it was, it made her feel even hotter and needier and more beautiful than she'd ever known.

"You're so pretty," he whispered, and she wasn't sure he even realized he was saying it. One hand traced down her face, her neck, and over her collarbone. "Just like my dreams." The words were wonderful, making her heart ache. But she wanted more.

He was staring down at her still, watching his hand move over the exposed skin over the top of her dress. She hadn't let Cara stuff her into one of her sexier numbers, and now wished she had. She wanted his hands back where they had been before the couch. Not letting herself think about it, she reached up and fumbled for the tie behind her neck. Harry realized what she was doing and jerked his hand back as it came loose and the fabric slid down a bit.

And then he was reaching back down, running his fingers over the newly exposed bit of skin with fascination. Ginny's other hand clutched at his open shirt, the other having lost the will to move and still up over her head as he nudged the fabric down bit by bit. Each centimeter made her shiver and shake in anticipation, her breath caught in her throat. She could feel how tight and hard her nipples were, dragging against the fabric as it moved slowly down.

And then she was bare to the waist, with nothing but firelight on her skin, and Harry had stopped moving. It was a long, still moment of him staring. She finally shivered, starting to feel uncertain. "Harry?" she whispered.

His eyes shot up to hers. "I… wow," he said, sounding hoarse. "You… wow." And then he kissed her again, and poof, uncertainty was gone. She was left with no doubt that he liked what he saw.

His mouth left hers and pressed against the side of her neck before he lifted his head again to gaze down at her. Ginny closed her eyes as one hand closed over her breast. He cupped it in his hand, and she could feel the little scars on his fingertips against the super sensitive skin. Nothing had ever felt so _right_, she thought hazily. Just like Cara said.

And then all thought fled entirely as his thumb brushed over her nipple, rubbing slowly, fascinated against the hard bud. Sensation shot through her, and Ginny gasped and couldn't resist arching up against that hand, pressing her body against his. As she did, she felt their lower halves brush and had to moan. Oh, she wanted _something_ so badly…

His hand left her breast and then she felt a warm, wet kiss against the top of it. Ginny gasped again, and this time opened her eyes to stare down. Helpless, heart pounding and almost unbearably excited, she watched as Harry pressed another kiss to the side of her breast. The firelight shone over his face, her skin, as he lowered his head again and this time kissed the very tip. She shuddered with sensation. He looked up at her, saw her watching, and reached up to kiss her. Hard and deep.

And then he bent his head again and opened his mouth over the center of her breast. A moan was pulled out of her throat at the feeling. She couldn't keep her eyes open anymore, it was too much. One hand twisted into his hair, clinging, the other clutching at his neck, chest, anywhere she could get her hands on skin. Her back arched, she pressed up against that wicked, hot mouth, twisting and pressing as close as she could. She couldn't breath, couldn't think, could only feel and want and need and…

He moved to the other breast and more sounds were dragged out of her. Her hand fumbled with his shirt, managing somehow to get it spread open as her fingers almost frantically dragged across his chest. He groaned, the sound vibrating against her body and she shuddered again.

One of his hands dropped to slide along her leg, squeezing her thigh and pausing. Ginny didn't think, just let her body move as it wanted. One leg dropped against the couch, Harry now lying between them. He pressed to one side; lips still busy, hand moving slowly up her inner thigh. Ginny's breath caught, body anxious, waiting, dying. She tipped her head back and panted, little wild sounds caught in her throat. And then his fingertips brushed against the fabric of her panties and she cried out at the jolt of sensation.

The sound seemed to make Harry jerk back. "God, Gin," he groaned against her breast, moving his head to press between the two soft mounds. His hands came up to wrap around her torso, pressing her against him in an almost painful hug.

She wrapped her arms tight around him as well, her body unable to resist the need to rub against his. He groaned again, not moving, not lifting his head. The muscles in his arms were locked tight and hard, corded and tense.

"Harry?" she managed. Don't stop, please don't stop, she was thinking.

"I…" he took a breath, still not lifting his head. "Not yet," he finally said. He raised his head and looked down at her. Her eyes, this time.

Ginny couldn't help it, her face fell. Well, hell, who _wouldn't_ be disappointed, when something that good stopped? "Why?" she asked.

He swallowed, and that made her feel a little bit better. Good. He better be finding this hard. "Because we should take it slower," he said. Sounding like he was dying, just a little bit. "Because I…" now she would swear he was blushing. "Because I've never done any of this, and I want to get it right."

Ginny couldn't help it, she laughed. "Harry, if you get it more right, you might just kill me," she said dryly. He turned red, but smirked with that smug male thing that all boys seemed to have built in. Even the nice ones. "And I've never done this either," she admitted, blushing herself.

The blush went all the way down her body, and Harry realized this, pulling back to watch in fascination. "You really blush," he said, sounding fascinated.

She turned redder. "Yeah," she said. "It comes with the red hair."

He looked back up at her face. "Beautiful," he said softly, reaching out to touch her hair. "I've dreamed about your hair." Her heart melted. Then he blinked. "I thought you dated whats-his-name, Corner, for a quite a while. You didn't…"

Ginny shook her head, embarrassed all over again. "We kissed," she said. "I… we really didn't do very much at all."

Harry suddenly smiled, and it took her breath away. She'd forgotten just how powerful that smile was, turned on one person, glowing with warmth. "I'm glad," he said. "Now we're both clueless."

She couldn't resist a saucy grin. "I think we'll figure it out just fine," she said.

He gave her a wicked look back. "Yeah," he agreed. Then he heaved a sigh, and without looking, reached down and fumbled her dress back up to cover her. "I really like touching you," he muttered, stroking a finger over her collarbone and making her shiver.

"Any time, Harry," she said softly, winding her fingers in his hair. Their eyes met, green against brown. "You can touch me, anytime." And then she gave a grin. "Although I'd recommend a little restraint around Ron. He's going to need some time to get used to the idea."

Harry chuckled with her. "I think he'll be plenty distracted himself," he said, fingers still absently stroking. "Hermione's got him pretty well tied up in knots."

"Yeah," she sighed, just savoring the feeling.

They lay there a few more moments before Harry sighed and eased himself up. "Come on," he said, holding out his hand to help her up. Ginny sat up, holding her bodice up as she did.

"Would you mind," she gestured, blushing. Harry's eyes gleamed and he flushed too, but he reached around and clumsily tied her top back together behind her neck. Ginny took his hand, then, and let him pull her to her feet.

Harry kept her hand in his as they stood there in front of the fire. "Gin," he started, looking rather serious.

Ginny wasn't about to wait for him to say something stupid. "Harry, if you're going to try to talk me away from you again, you should just save your breath," she told him firmly. "It hasn't worked yet, and ignoring me won't work either. If it didn't in my second and third years, it won't now."

Harry blinked and tightened his grip on her hand. "That long?" he asked.

Ginny gave him a wry look. "You ARE a little on the thick side, aren't you, Potter?" she said in a teasing tone.

He blew out a breath and clasped her hand tighter. "Yeah, well…" He looked down at her fingers caught in his. "I won't try to talk you away," he finally said. "I don't think it would work."

"About time," Ginny muttered, but he kept going.

"But I want you to be really, really careful," he said, looking back up at her. "Don't take any chances, give anyone the chance to hurt you."

She frowned. "Like what?"

"Um, like going outside the castle alone," he said, thinking about it. "Wandering around at night alone. Not telling someone where you'll be."

She arched a brow at him. "You really don't think I can take care of myself, do you, Potter?" she said, slightly miffed.

He shook his head, frowning. "No, that's not it, it's just… I need you to stay safe," he said. He played with her fingers a minute, then looked at her again. "I need you," he said simply, "and they're going to want to use that. And if he gets you… I don't know if I could win."

A chill went through her as she listened, as Ginny finally absorbed just how serious Harry was about everything. Cold balled in her stomach as she realized just how far she was sticking her neck out, how dangerous things could be. And then she looked at the boy standing tensely in front of her, and squeezed his fingers. "I promise you, Harry," she said quietly. "I won't take any chances." If this was one of the ways she could help, then so be it. She might go a bit stir crazy, but she'd deal.

Something seemed to lighten and ease in his face, and he squeezed back. "Thanks," he said.

She cocked her head, looking at him. "You know what else would help?" she said quietly. "The DA." Harry winced, and she shook her head at him. "Give me, give all of us the tools to fight, Potter. Because we'll be trying with or without them."

"Dammit," he muttered, raking his free hand through his hair. His shirt was still open, she noted, and got a little thrill as she reached up to start fastening it. He sighed as her fingers lightly brushed his chest as she worked. "Yeah, ok. You're right. We'll talk to Hermione and Ron tomorrow and start setting it up." She looked at him, hearing the sadness in his voice. His eyes were haunted. "Other people shouldn't have to deal with this," he muttered.

She raised up on her toes and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Neither should you," she said quietly, eyes intent. "In the meantime, we'll all just go about it the best we can."

He looked down at her, very seriously, green eyes catching a weird glow from the fire. He nodded slowly. "Ok," he said.

She smiled at him. "Come on," she said, squeezing his hand. "I think you should walk me back to my dorm. After all, you can't be too careful roaming around the halls at night."

He smiled a little at that. "Yeah," he said. And then grimaced. "Oh, god, how much you want to bet Ron's sitting there, waiting for us?"

Ginny smirked. "Oh, I'm hoping he is," she said. "I have plans to scar him for life."

"Hey, I have to share a dorm with him, you know," Harry protested, chuckling as she pulled him out of the Room.

"He's a big wuss," she said confidently, snuggling close as they walked down the long, quiet halls. "You can take him. Just aim for those big feet of his."

"Why?" Harry asked.

She lowered her voice furtively. "He's really ticklish there." She grinned. "I should tell Hermione." They both laughed, Ginny's heart warm inside her. For the moment, at least, all was right in the world.

$$$$$$$$$$

AN: There now, doesn't that make up for the cliffie?

**Severus' Wife** – Now, see, Cadbury Dairy Milk bars were what got me through five months living in Ireland, cut off from my state-side supply of Hershey's Kisses. So I can too use it. (sticking out tongue) And I think this chap more than makes up for my little ending last time… so you better be using that wand for other things, missy! (still ducking warily)

**Plateado** – Thank you very much! I always appreciate hearing that I've kept my characters, well, believable. The one thing I've really tried to remember as I write is that these characters AREN'T adults, they're teens. They may be in adult situations, dealing with adult issues (like life and death!), but they're still teenagers. And darned annoying about it sometimes. And I hear you on Draco. Come on, there's got to be just a smidgen of good in him. Right? (grin)

**Child-of-scorpio** – A pineapple? Hmm, this seems like a job for my Miracle Knife! (brandishing large, funny-looking knife) Able to slice through drywall, baby. Come on. Bring on the pineapple.

**Kokopelli5287** – Good point about the wall. I'm not thinking Harry's going to be completely reasonable about everything… in fact, I foresee a scuffle or two in the future, perhaps as danger begins to close in… But you should start to see him begin shifting some bricks around in the next few chapters, so to speak. Ginny's going to teach him how to 'add on' to his wall.

**MrsSakuraPotter** – Now, now, like Harry just said, let's not rush things… (wink, wink)

**Ferggirl99** – You better have chocolate for me, that chapter kinda drained me. So to speak. Heh heh heh. And glad you reminded me about Sonora. She's been trying to get my attention for a few chapters, wanting to get back into the action. Ack! And there goes Draco, poking me in the side… damn nosy characters…

**Marauder23** – Well, Ronniekins is attempting. Please note choice of words, lol. Although with a little help from Cara, he may not do too badly… And there's a Hogsmede weekend coming up. Hmm…

**Shahrezad1** – Now I have a horrible image of Uncle Sam in a wizards hat…

**Siriuslover** – Evil? Moi? Heh heh heh…

**Crookshankx** – I do hope that satisfied you. So to speak.

**Sugarbaby** – I think Ginny's just kind of in the 'it's about damn time' sort of mindset. Lol. Not that I blame her.

**Barbelibou** – Clueless is Ron's middle name. But I think he's about to fumble his way through a few things successfully. Sort of. Heh heh.

**VirginiaLilyPotter713, mary-v, hawkeyessabre, cherryblossom08, Amanda, kpxiceboi, hplovah, Tsusetsu, IceSugarHigh, Superkid, Moonglaze, James Potter's Lily Flower, Maddie, sugarbaby, Lou, Lovguurl** – Aw, there was an awful lot of complaining about my little ol' cliffie! Tsk, tsk, threats are not the way to get some action. Now cookies, cookies usually work. And cake. And chocolate. And reviews. Lol. Hope this chapter satisfied you all!


	19. Deux Dialogues

Chapter 18

Harry considered himself to be a reasonably intelligent guy, one who wasn't all that thicker than the next guy. Well, normally he didn't. Frankly he was starting to have some real doubts about his level of smarts because damned if he hadn't just gone and done the one thing he'd spent the last year and a half avoiding.

He scratched his head, still staring up the staircase to the girls' dorms where Ginny had disappeared. He wasn't quite sure how he'd gotten to where he was with her, but he had a sneaking suspicion it had been a carefully laid plan. He dropped his hand and started for his own dorm room. Thank God Ron hadn't been waiting for them, at least.

Harry quietly snuck into the dorm room and glancing at the still, dark beds, grabbed his pajamas without looking off the foot of his bed and headed for the bathroom. He changed, brushed his teeth and splashed a little water on his face before tiptoeing back out into the dark room. He chucked his clothes in the direction of his trunk and slipped in through the curtains of his bed. He was reaching over to yank down the covers when a voice stopped him and made him jump.

"So," came from the end of the bed.

Harry reacted first and thought after, whirling and snarling something under his breath as he shoved magic at whoever it was. And, of course, with his luck it was Ron, now out cold but still managing to glare at him even while unconscious. Harry heaved a sigh. Oh great. Apparently they WERE going to have this talk tonight.

"Dammit," he mumbled before flicking a finger Ron's direction. "_Finite incatatem_." He waited until Ron had sat up, looking seriously pissed off. "Maybe I should have warned you, it's a bad idea to sneak up on me."

"No shit, Potter," Ron said in a heated whisper. "Crikey, I think you dislodged something around my spleen." He was treated to another if-looks-could-kill glare. "I'll pound the daylights out of you if it sets me back in Quidditch."

Harry rolled his eyes and tugged at the covers, shoving them to one side and propping the pillows behind him against the headboard. "I'm pretty sure the captain will understand," he said dryly.

Ron snapped his fingers at him, pointing and Harry tossed him a pillow. Ron jammed it behind his own back, against one of the bedposts. His friend leaned back and crossed his arms against his chest, legs stretching out and taking up half the bed. Harry briefly wondered if Ron's own bed was charmed to fit him better, then focused back in on the dark look on his best friend's face.

"So," Ron said again. "Want to tell me anything?"

Harry had the distinct feeling that it wasn't a request. His not-so-unfamiliar nightmare about six Weasley brothers flashed before his eyes, and he had to resist the urge to swallow. He tried shrugging. "Do you really want to know that much?"

Ron looked horrified. "Holy hell, Harry, what the fuck did you do to my sister?" he said, siting bolt upright. "She's a year younger than you, and if you've gone and taken advantage of her, friendship or not I'm going to have to beat the living daylights out of you and then owl everyone else and let them have at and then tell Mum, and you REALLY don't want to be around for when she finds about what you've done to her little girl, and"

"Ron," Harry interrupted. "Shut up." It worked but he was back to being glared at. Harry sighed and raked his hands through his hair. Dammit, that stupid "I'll tell you everything I can" crap was getting annoying. "Ginny and I are together," he finally decided. "And before you blow your top, yes, your sister's still a virgin." And of course he promptly blushed, because that meant so was he.

"Oh god oh god oh god, I did not just hear that," Ron moaned, rubbing his face. "Look, Potter, we're close and all, but you keep your hands above her neck, you hear? I don't want you doing anything to my sister. Hold her hand, that's a good thing. You can do that."

Harry coughed. "Only if that's the only thing you ever do with Hermione," he said. There was dead silence.

"Hermione's not together with me," came the mumble. And then clearer, "So that doesn't count."

Harry snorted. "Please. Your sister, my sister." They glared at each other for a long moment before there was a loud sigh from each of them. "How about this?" Harry offered. "I don't tell you, you don't tell me, and we don't do anything they don't want. Period."

Ron seemed to consider. "Deal," he said and then sighed again. "Not that it does me much fucking good," he muttered.

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Harry said, rolling his eyes and reaching around to punch his pillow up, "if you don't get off your ass and put Hermione out of her misery, I'm going to lock the two of you in a closet and put a charm on it that won't let you out until you've kissed." He shuddered. "Not that I want to think about that."

Ron snorted. "Cara says that Hermione talks about how I look in my Quidditch uniform," he said, sounding just a tad bit smug.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Never would have figured her for liking sweaty, dirty, ugly gits in ripped robes." Ron kicked him lightly and Harry obligingly grunted.

"Shut it," Ron ordered. Now he could hear the smile in the Head Boy's voice.

Harry smirked. "Make me."

There was a snicker. "Two words. Bill' and Charlie'." There was another snicker. "Even better. Gred' and Forge'."

Harry groaned. "Good point," he said. "Not that I couldn't take them."

"You're a bloody arrogant bloke now, aren't you?" Ron said, voice definitely amused. "You just keep thinking that. After all, you've never seen a combined force of Weasleys."

Harry shuddered. "I don't want to think about it," he said. And then decided to turn the tables. "And of course, you realize that I'll turn you inside out, pull off all your toenails and then shred you into bite-size pieces for the giant squid if you fuck around on Hermione?"

"Let's call it even," Ron said grudgingly. Harry had a feeling he still liked the idea of calling the rest of the Weasleys in on him. He decided he'd be very careful not to give Ron a reason to rethink that decision. Either that, or tell Ginny on him.

"So," he said, sliding a bit lower and shoving Ron's legs over with his own. "What's the deal with you, then?"

He could almost see Ron light up the bed with what had to be one colossal blush. "Cara caught me trying to make daisies," his friend muttered.

Harry grinned. "Daisies?" he said.

"Girls like flowers, right?" Ron said, defensively. "Cara said so."

Harry coughed. "Dunno. Since I've never given any." Briefly he considered the fact that he'd probably have to start figuring those things out. Girls expected it. Great, just great.

"Anyway. So I made daisies and Cara put them on Hermione's bed for me," Ron grumbled.

"What'd she think?" Harry asked.

Ron mumbled something, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. Harry gave a little ahem' of expectation. "I pretended I was in bed, ok? Crikey, what'd you expect me to do, wait around for her to tell me that it did the charm all wrong?" his friend said, sounding sour.

"Hermione said that?" Harry said, surprised. That didn't sound like her, especially not since she'd started randomly kissing Ron. He'd rather thought she's go all mushy and burst into tears and Ron would have ended up having an evening rather like his. Which he did NOT want to think about.

"I don't know what she said," Ron fired back, impatiently. "I pretended I was in bed."

Harry smirked. "So Cara put the flowers on her bed, Hermione's gotten them, and you've been hiding in here ever since." He snickered. "Way to go, loverboy."

"Shut up," Ron groused. "You didn't have to do this stuff. I do. It sucks."

Harry shrugged, still grinning. "Seems to me, you need to take some of your own advice," he said. Ron just looked blank. He rolled his eyes. "Hello? Does talking' sound familiar?"

"Yeah, but Ginny's had a thing for you for forever," Ron protested. Albeit weakly. "Hermione's Head Girl. And way smarter than me. Not to mention she could probably have any guy she wants right now"

Harry couldn't take it anymore. He jerked his pillow out from under him and smashed it over his face, giving a scream of frustration. Then he tucked it back under his head. "Look, Ron," he said as reasonably as he could. "I'm glad you're owned up to the truth and all, but you're going to make me stark raving nutters if you don't get off your pansy ass and get with the girl. And if I have to listen to you whine about how you're not worthy one more time, I'll throw you out the window without your broom."

"I'd like to see you try," Ron muttered.

Harry smirked. "I bet your brothers would help me."

There was silence. "Good point."

Draco had settled into a nice, calm Potions class, and had started amusing himself by reading some notes Professor Snape had given him that morning on her latest research when his name was muttered.

"Malfoy," Potter said next to him in a low voice. Snape was up at the front of the room, and he looked their way, scowling, just waiting for the Golden Boy to do something. Anything. Not that his wife was letting him get away with much, much to Draco's private amusement. It was pretty damn funny to watch Snape grumble under his wife's oh-so-gentle thumb.

Draco raised a cool eyebrow and looked over at Potter over the top of his notes. "Yes?" he said. Annoying git.

Potter gave him a quick, serious look. "I need a word after class," he said briefly.

"Potter!" came from the front. Oops, looks like the Boy-Who-Lived hadn't been quite quiet enough. "Ten points for talking in class and disturbing your peers."

He could hear the small sigh from the other boy, and it was enough to soothe his irritation at the request. What on earth did he want to talk about? It wasn't like they were some sort of friends or anything. He resisted the urge to shudder. One Gryffindor was about all he could handle on a regular basis. Well, two, counting Professor Snape.

Draco pushed the thoughts aside. It made no matter, there was still a good hour of class left, and he had notes to read.

It was at the end of class, as he finished packing up his materials and had exchanged nods with Snape, that he nearly ran into Potter outside the classroom. Draco drew himself up and scowled. "What?" he snapped. He didn't want to talk, he wanted lunch and Cara. Not necessarily in that order.

Potter jerked his head. "I need a word," he said again. Grudgingly, Draco stepped to the far side of the empty hall and obliged. He was only doing this so Cara wouldn't come back and yell at him later, he thought.

He gave the Gryffindor a cold look. "Make it fast," he ordered.

Potter's face was blank, his hands shoved in his pockets. "There's going to be open war in a few months," he said, just out of the blue. Draco resisted the urge to gape. Well, whatever he was expecting, it hadn't been that. Intent green eyes were being trained on him. "I need to know you're on our side."

Draco drew himself up straight. "All you need to know is I'm not on his side," he snapped, and made to turn away. Pissed off and not entirely sure why.

"That's not going to work," his voice stopped him. He swung back around to find that same intent gaze. "Not in this war." Frankly, the certainty and finality of the other's voice was rather unnerving. "There'll be no room for middle ground, for neutrality. It's going to be death and destruction and the survival of only one."

Briefly a memory surfaced from last year, from a drunken night in the Astronomy Tower in the company of his formerly worst enemy. Something about only one

"I need to know you're on my side. Cara says you are. But I need to hear you say it." There was that intent look again, and now his head was starting to ache just a touch.

Draco abruptly remembered that part of the night as well. "Get out of my head," he snarled and tried to remember what he'd read of Occlumency, working to shove Potter away. The ache receded, but he had the feeling it was only because the other wanted it to.

Potter was giving him a bland look. "Sorry," he said. Not sounding it at all. "I do it to nearly everyone."

"What about your precious sidekicks?" Draco snapped, still pissed. "How do they like you breaking into their minds?"

Potter shook his head. "I haven't done them," he said. "Just people I'm not sure of." Then he shrugged. "Anyway. Are you with me?"

Draco wanted to hex him, but he'd definitely hear about _that_ from Cara, and frankly, he just wanted to end this conversation. Before he hexed the prat anyway, Cara be damned. "Yes," he said shortly, and made to go again.

"Wait," he was interrupted again. Draco gritted his teeth. I'm doing this for you, Cara, he thought silently. And boy, are you going to owe me tonight.

"Now what?" he demanded.

"The DA is re-forming," the other boys said in a low voice, back to looking blank. "People are going to need all the weapons they can get." Draco remembered the fallout after Umbridge had found out about their little club in fifth year. Some Ravenclaw had skulked around the castle covered with crude words for the rest of the year. _That_, at least, had been amusing.

"I need you," Potter went on. This time he managed to surprise Draco. "You've got a background that the rest of us don't. I need you to come and help me teach the rest of them how to survive."

Draco bared his teeth. "Dying is easy," he growled. "You have to want to survive." And he'd wanted to do so, if only to spite dear old dad and his lovely cousin Bella.

Potter nodded. "Yeah," the other boy said. "We can't be easy on them. There's too little time, and what's coming" For a moment, the blank look disappeared and instead Draco was treated to a face that was grim, hard, haunted. "What's coming isn't going to pull any punches."

Draco stood and considered for a long moment. Potter wasn't asking him to be friends, wasn't asking for him to do anything but draw on his worst memories and nightmares. And while he normally would have stalked away, sneering, that one look was what was keeping him in place. Perhaps Potter really did have some idea of what he was facing. Draco had never believed it before, not the way the Golden Boy was fussed over by ever other living person on earth. But that one look

He made a decision. "When?" he asked abruptly.

"Tonight. 8pm, in the Room of Requirement," was the reply. Draco gave a curt nod, and then swung on his heel and started to stride away. "Draco," was called after him.

"You're asking me to torture Gryffindors," he shot back over his shoulder, unable to resist. "I'll be there." As he headed up the stairs toward the Great Hall, he almost thought he heard laughter behind him. Bloody Potter.

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AN: Ah, my dear, dear readers yes, it's been a while. And I will warn you, it may happen again, although I'll try my best to not. The school year has just started, and I've got a lot of teaching stuff to get rolling.

Sugarbaby - Ahem. Yes, well, I've finally gotten around to updating. And as for Harry/Ginny/Voldy my lips are sealed.

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James and Lily 4eva – He is a rather attractive bloke, isn't he? Lol. I'm rather fond of my Harry moments myself

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Ferggirl99 – You went to the home of Ghiradelli chocolate, and came back empty-handed? That's it. I'm writing you into the story as a rejected character who gets dissed by Ron as a stalker. (smirking)

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Ravenmom – I'm just guessing, here, at what your favorite part of the last chapter was. Lol. As for chocolate strawberries lets just say blood has been shed over them.

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Xayne – If there's one thing that 6 years with one man has taught me, it's that a man's brain is usually not the best part of him. Lol. (All you males reading: yes, yes, women make no sense, I know)

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Crookshanx – No possibility of death? Not even a little one? Man, you don't ask for much, do you? And no mystery? Honey, there ain't enough chocolate in the world for THAT one. (big toothy grin) Not that you couldn't try.

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Milygo – Glad to hear it! I try very hard to keep my characters as believable as possible, both in the world of canon and the world of lets-face-it-they're-teenagers. Lol.

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Cherryblossom08 – (coughs lightly) What, I wasn't prompt enough? I have no idea where you'd get an idea like that

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Shahrezad1 – See, now there's that dirty mind again. Innocence was NOT lost, not yet, anyway. (smirks) Don't worry, our favorite sets of lovers will get, um, busy' soon enough There IS a bad guy out there to take care of, you know. (grins)

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Plateado – I admit that's one of my big curiosities in the real' stories. What will happen to Draco, to Snape? These are characters that we don't know nearly as much about, which of course makes them great to write! (grins sheepishly) I haven't made up my mind yet which way I think JKR's going to take them all. I guess we'll all have to wait for the "Half-Blood Prince" to come out. As for Ron and Hermione action, Ron's got to bumble around a bit more before Hermione takes pity on him and sets him straight. I mean, he's a boy. (shaking head sadly)

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Obsessed87 – (gasp) No! I would never forget you! (frantically scanning previous reviews) Umm oops? (batting eyes and giving best smile) Have I told you lately what a great reviewer you are?

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IceSugarHigh – Did you know that studies have proven that chocolate in women causes the same endorphins to be release as sex? Kinda makes you think, doesn't it (currently munching Hershey Kisses myself)

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Remus' Girl – Not to worry, Ginny's not exactly a wilting flower in this story. Please note her threatening to feed Harry to the giant squid. Lol. Not that I'm going to give away any secrets, but I don't think you'll be disappointed when we get down to it.

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Brokentoy19 - I like torture. That's why I'm a teacher. (BWAHAHAHAHA)

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Barlelibou – I hope you like the timing here, I thought it was time to start getting a bit serious again

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Cutemara, lillypotterfan, foxyginny, Moonglaze, Maddie, lluvatar, Siriuslover, kpxiceboi, Hermey, hplovah, Superkid, hawkeyessabre – Hmm. Judging from the amount of sweets I've consumed in the past week or so, you enjoyed the last chapter. (grins) Keep those bribes and especially those reviews coming! After all, that's what motivates me to get the next chapter up


	20. Testing the Waters

Chapter 19

Dinner was a rather interesting affair. Hermoine had skipped breakfast, for some reason, and Ron had spent all morning in Potions class shooting wary looks over his shoulder at her, on tenderhooks thanks to his little daisies thing. Frankly, it was a minor miracle he hadn't blown up his cauldron. Harry figured that it just went to prove that the Head Boy wasn't nearly as dumb as he claimed to be.

Then Hermione had taken off from lunch, only pausing to grab a sandwich, and heading for the library to bury herself in books and those spells Harry'd given her. He'd gotten to eat and listen to Ron sulk in his own food, rather than watch the ongoing saga that was Ron and Hermione. Lunch had been followed by Divination, always a joke, and then a nice, brisk Quidditch practice that had Ron dropping the quaffle _into_ the hoop a half dozen times. His friend had even fallen off his broom once, much to the rest of the team's amusement. Somehow the story of the daisies had gotten out, probably thanks to Cara/Ginny.

Finally, Harry'd given up and called practice early, tactfully suggesting to Ron that he go drown himself in the shower, because he was a bloody useless keeper at the moment who should really just get off his ass and take care of his girl problems. Ron had responded by cracking Harry over the head with the quaffle, leading to a scuffle on the Quidditch pitch and a few minor bruises. Ginny had finally put an end to the whole matter, looking slightly peeved when Harry'd gotten socked in the nose and started bleeding. She'd shot water from her wand, soaking them both, and told them to grow up and go change.

They'd both stomped off, muttering and glaring, and had finished up with a nice fight staring flying bars of soap. Harry'd won, thanks to his superior levitational skills. Ron had called it dumb luck after one bar had gotten lodged in his rather large mouth, sufficiently distracting him for Harry's killing blow to the back of his head with a rather large bit of soap.

Ginny had been waiting for the two of them, looking rather bored, and had laced her fingers with Harry for the walk up to the Great Hall. It had given Harry a warm, secure feeling for some reason, walking into the Hall with her hand nestled in his. Even though he could all but feel the sharp looks from one section of the Slytherin table, he didn't tense, didn't panic. Well, until he got the glare from Bill up at the teachers' table.

Ginny leaned close as they loaded up with good roast beef and potatoes. "Don't worry about Bill. Believe me, he's the least of your worries," she murmured.

Harry glared at her as he stabbed a bite of his beef. "You're so helpful," he grumbled.

Ron snickered from across the table. "I warned you, mate," he said. "You ought to be afraid." He waggled his eyebrows. "VERY afraid. Bill's going to go write the rest, you know. Even mum."

Ginny heaved a sigh. "Blimey," she said, looking aggrieved. "I suppose I'll have to write them all myself."

"Will that actually stop them?" Harry muttered under his breath.

Ginny pursed her lips and helped herself to a roll. "When you know as much family blackmail as I do, yes," she said.

Harry grinned, feeling a little relieved, and Ron just looked disappointed. "I still don't think it's fair that you got to have such quiet feet," he said, mouth full.

Ginny took a dainty bite. "Sorry, Ronald, but yours are just too big to eavesdrop properly," she said sweetly. "Oh, and about that time this summer you had a 'dream' in the middle of the night..."

"That's enough," Ron said hastily as Harry snickered. "I get it."

"Good," Ginny said with satisfaction.

Just then, Hermione came breezing in, a quill tucked rather haphazardly behind her ear like she'd forgotten it was there, her hair looking a bit more crazy than usual, and a gleam in her eyes that said she was having the time of her life.

"Goodness, Harry, you can't imagine what some of those spells are," she said, dropping down rather unceremoniously and beginning to fill a plate. "I mean, I'm just trying to find where the different pieces are coming from, you know, so I can start to see if there are ways to counter them, and I've been in the Restricted Section no less than two dozen times this afternoon, each time after a different book. Madam Pince is getting rather nosy." She took a bite of roast beef, chewed and swallowed. "So far, I've only managed to sort out the different hands, trying to put them together and see if there's any similarities. I started with one group, I think they're Lucius Malfoy's, the handwriting looks a lot like what was in that journal you showed me..."

"Hermione," Harry interrupted, seeing that Ron was sinking lower and lower into his plate of food, looking completely dispirited. "Take a breath." Hermione obligingly shut her mouth and instead of keeping going, took a few more bites.

"So, Hermione," Ginny finally said, after a long minute or two of eating. "Did you have a good evening last night?" There was a rather wicked gleam in her eyes, Harry thought. She was just dying to make Ron's evening even more miserable than it already was. He loved it.

Hermione swallowed and gave her a blankly puzzled look. "Why, I did that essay for Charms, and helped tutor a few third-year Hufflepuffs in History of Magic," she said, sounding rather vague. "I suppose it was a fine evening."

Harry looked at her, a bit puzzled. Surely she would have said something about the flowers... Then he spotted the smirk buried deep in her eyes. Whooboy, was Ron in for a nice ride, he thought, counting his lucky stars that he wasn't in his friend's shoes. Ginny might have been a tough decision, but he hadn't had to chase her at all. It looked like Hermione was going to put Ron through a few hoops. He made a note to mention it to Ron later. Maybe he could goad the Head Boy into just putting them all out of their misery and snogging the girl in question.

Meanwhile, Ron had stopped eating and was poking at his food rather aimlessly, a dark look on his face. Harry took a good look and then winced. Ok. Maybe he wouldn't do that to Ron. His friend was just a bit too insecure about the whole thing. He flung a rather pointed look at Hermione, who was in the middle of chewing a bite of potatoes. She gave him a puzzled look, and he glanced at Ron and then back at her.

Hermione just blinked sweetly and swallowed. "Yes, Harry?" she asked.

Harry resisted the urge to whack his head on the table. She was being deliberately obtuse. "Nothing," he muttered. And poked his own food.

He felt rather than heard Ginny sigh. "Hermione, can you help me with my Charms later?" she asked, as she nudged Harry. He relaxed a bit. Oh, good, Ginny was going to hit the Head Girl upside the head later. He hoped.

"Sure," Hermione told her, and then the conversation wandered off into schoolwork and just how on earth Flitwick managed to find robes in his size. Meanwhile Ron finally gave up on his food and shoved his plate away.

"I'm going up," he muttered, standing. Harry gave him a look, but Ron just shrugged a bit and headed out of the Hall, hands in his pockets.

Harry frowned and looked back at Hermione. "You're pretty mean," he said, interrupting her and Ginny.

Hermione stopped and turned to look at him, drawing herself up straight and staring down her nose rather regally. "Excuse me?" she asked. It was a little scary.

Harry plowed on. "He's really not that sure about this whole thing, you know. Ron's nervous about everything. Hell, you know that." He gave her a puzzled look. "Why're you being mean about the flowers?"

Hermoine just looked at him, and then shook her head very slowly. "Harry," she said quietly. "Do you have ANY concept what it's like to love someone for years, YEARS, Harry, and not have him notice you are even alive?"

Harry was suddenly very conscious of Ginny sitting next to him. "Err, no?" he tried, suspecting this was one of those times that there was no right answer.

"That's right. You don't," she said, eyes narrowing on his face. "I do, however. Ginny could tell you exactly what I'm going to, only she's too bloody nice to you." Hermione leaned over the table, voice low and making Harry start to sweat. Girls, the ones he knew especially, were scary. "I've spent the last four years waiting on Ron to wake up and realize that I was standing right here. I've listened to him ogle veelas and Ravenclaws with big breasts and whatever the name of that singer was. I've sat through endless discussions of Quidditch and chess, until I was ready to scream. I've cried night after night after night because we'd had a fight and it mattered more to me than him that he was angry with me." Her eyes gleamed. "So you can be damn sure I'm going to make sure I get a little something back now."

Harry was pretty sure he wanted to head for the dorm, just like Ron. Except he was way too stupid. "Yeah," he said. "But here's the problem, Hermione. Ron's _never_ thought he was as good as you." He held up a hand, hoping she wasn't going to hex him. Knowing Hermione, it would be one he didn't know and would be a bitch to get rid of. "No, really. Ever since we met you, he's felt like you're smarter and better and whatever than him. Remember first year, before the troll? And now..." he shrugged a little. "Now he's absolutely convinced that you're going to just reject him because you're too good for him."

Hermione was staring at him, and he hadn't sprouted any extra appendages, so Harry decided it was time to make his exit. "Um, don't forget to be at the Room, eight tonight," he muttered, and beat a hasty retreat. He didn't look back, just made a beeline for the door. He wasn't sure if he had two angry or stunned girls behind him.

Outside the Hall, he breathed a sigh of relief, and hoped that Ginny wasn't ticked at him. Because he was still a little uncertain himself, and if she decided to get mad at him, it would really be awkward.

Harry pushed the thoughts away, and turned his feet toward the dorms. He had about an hour until they'd told the former DA members to meet, and he needed Ron. After all, if he was going to have to run this damn thing again, his best mate sure as hell was going to suffer with him.

He had a moment of darkness, thinking again about all the lives he was about to ruin by wrapping them around his own ugly one, before he shoved those thoughts away. Ron had said it. They were all going to be there anyway. He was just going to try to keep them alive.

Ginny was feeling very... contemplative as she approached the Room of Requirement with Cara that evening. Harry'd surprised her at dinner, when he'd actually told Hermione that Ron was nervous. Frankly, paying attention to emotions had never been his strong suit, and the fact that he recognized Ron's and then made himself _talk_ about them... well, that had impressed her. She rather thought it had Hermione as well, since the Head Girl had been rather quiet and thoughtful for the rest of the meal.

The door was open just a crack, and the two of them stepped into the room. Ginny supposed secrecy wasn't as big a concern this time as she looked around the room. Not only were there old DA members here, they'd brought friends. Everyone looked nervous and rather grim. Harry and Ron were over in a corner, heads together conferring.

Harry glanced up as she came into the room, almost as if he'd known it was her. As his eyes met hers she realized he _did_ know it was her, and wondered a bit. Then she let it go. There were other things to worry about right now. She gave him a little smile, just enough to know that she wasn't mad at him from earlier, and saw him ease just a touch. Lordy, she loved those eyes, she thought as he turned back to Ron. There was just something about that shade of green, the color of the grass in that shady spot down by the swimming hole at the Burrow...

The door opened and shut a few more times behind her as she and Cara quietly moved to find a place to stand. The room looked much like it had when Harry'd demonstrated for them, except much larger. This was a room for practice, for training. Not for fun.

Harry turned and cleared his throat, pulling out his wand and pointing it at himself, muttering. "Right, then, everyone," he said, amplified voice echoing. Ginny watched him. Of course he'd be using the wand, he didn't want everyone to know what he could really do.

"You're all here because we told you we were starting the DA again," Harry started. The room was silent as he spoke, a hundred eyes on him, listening and waiting and judging. Hermione slipped to stand next to Ginny, squeezing her hand in greeting. "This time, it's not for studying." Harry paused, looking like he really didn't want to say the next part. "This time, it's because there's going to be a war. Soon, really soon. And people need to know how to stay alive."

A hand went up from the far side of the room. "Harry, how do you know it's coming?" someone asked. Padma, Ginny thought it was.

Harry stood straight and tall and so handsome it made her heart ache. Only now she had him, and could hold him just like she wanted. "I know," he said simply, shoving his hands in his pocket. There was not a sound in the room. He turned and looked about the room again. "I know," he repeated soberly. "It's coming. And there's not going to be a middle ground, a safe place. If you're not on the side of the Dark, Voldemort will come after you. It doesn't matter who or what or where. He doesn't care."

Ron stepped up at that point, and Ginny couldn't help being proud of how much a good Head Boy he was. Her brother. "Look, folks," he said, standing much like Harry, tall with his hands in his pockets. "You can believe it or not, that's up to you. What we're going to do is try to give ourselves a fighting chance. I don't know about you, but I'm in this thing whether I want to or not. Even it I wasn't going to be getting Wonder Boy's back," he said jerking his head at Harry, getting a few nervous chuckles. "I'd be in this thing. My family's in it. And besides, it's just right."

There was quiet, dead quiet. All those eyes on Harry, on Ron. Harry cleared his throat. "Anyway. If you don't want to do this, now's the time to say so." There was still quiet. "If you don't believe me, if you don't want to work... because that's what we're going to do. You're going to have to learn how to fight, to really fight. And maybe that's not everyone here."

Not a soul in the room moved. Finally Seamus spoke up, from somewhere behind Ginny. "Harry, I didn't believe you last time around. And I'll be damned if I'll make that same mistake again." There was a murmur of agreement. "So whatever you've got that can help, I'll do."

Ginny'd thought that hearing that kind of support might have made Harry feel better about it all, but instead she thought she saw him tense. Bloody boy, he felt so responsible for everyone and everything...

"Right," he said, giving Seamus a nod. "Then here's how it's going to work. Two nights a week. Come whenever you can. When you're here, you'll probably get beat up pretty bad." He gave a nod toward Ron. "Ron'll help me, what with getting things going. Then it'll be lots of practice." His eyes moved to the back of the room, and she thought she saw a flash of humor. "I'll be teaching you, and Draco Malfoy will be teaching you."

A hundred heads swung about, gaping, and muttering started as people spotted the blonde Slytherin leaning against the doorframe negligently. He just sneered. "Harry, what the bloody blazes is he..." started someone, Seamus again, Ginny thought.

Malfoy interrupted. "Do you have any idea what it's like to face a Deatheater and live, Finnegan?" Draco drawled. He surveyed them all disdainfully. "Potter does. Possibly a few others. The rest of you," he snorted. "You're fodder right now. Pathetic excuses for wizards who would be dead before you turned around."

There was an angry rumble, and Harry broke in. "Shove it," he said bluntly, and heads swung back as people realized he was NOT talking to Malfoy. "You don't have any idea how bad it's going to be. I do. He does," he said, nodding toward the back again. "You don't have to like him. But if you stay, you have to listen. Because Malfoy there's going to help you learn to stay alive."

There was quiet again. Ginny looked back to see Malfoy raise an eyebrow. "What a sorry lot," he said, scornfully. "Can they actually be taught, Potter?"

"Right then," came Dean's voice, sharp in the large room. "You're a bloody git, Malfoy, but Harry's bringing you in. And if Harry says you're not on You-Know-Who's side, then that's good enough for me. Like he said, I don't have to like you. But I'll listen."

Slowly heads nodded, and Ginny felt a wave of relief that no one was leaving. This was going to be hard, that was for certain. She slipped her hand into her pocket and gripped her wand. But she and everyone else was ready. They were putting their trust in the boy standing so straight and tall in the front of the room, and if he said to jump, she would trust him to catch her.

"Good," Harry said. "Then everyone loose the shoes and sweaters, and let's get started." He looked back at Malfoy. "You want to start?"

A cold and rather cruel smile graced Malfoy's face. "By all means." The crowd parted as he strolled casually up toward where Harry stood, Ron by his side. "Let's start with an exhibition."

And Harry grinned, really grinned. A wicked and very amused smile. "By all means."

AN: I do love leaving things hanging... 

I apologize to all my wonderful, beloved reviewers, but I'm coming down sick and I'm just too tired right now to answer individual reviews. So next chapter, you can count on lots of responses and answers to all your questions. Thank you all!


	21. Meetings Large and Small

Chapter 20

Harry hadn't been so amused in quite a while. Malfoy was standing there, wand caught loosely between his fingers and suggesting an 'exhibition.' Hah. Harry would've obliged him, but really. It would be rude to kill the guy on the first day.

So instead, he turned to Ron. "Mr. Weasley, would you care to do the honors?" he said, gesturing grandly, still unable to stop the grin.

It took Ron a second to realize what he was doing, and then the Head Boy rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell, Harry, you're being too damn nice," he muttered, and then heaved a sigh. "Right then, Malfoy. Let's have at," he said, raising his wand. Everyone else in the room took two very large steps backward, except Harry.

Malfoy sneered. "Come, come, Potter, afraid to show your stuff?" he taunted. "I'll only be a little cruel."

Harry wasn't sure if it was the fact that Ginny was standing to one side, her eyes serious and dark on the three of them, or Ron stalwart and sturdy next to him, but somehow the taunt didn't bother him. He laughed. "Malfoy, at some point I'll let you have your duel. But not today. I want you alive to teach the rest of them," he said with a jerk of his head and amusement still in his voice.

"Besides," Ron drawled. "You get to curse a Weasley. Isn't that just one of your favorite dreams?"

Draco snorted. "I rarely waste that much time on you," he said. "Very well, then, Potter, but I'm holding you to that duel." The last time Draco had seen Harry's wand work, unguarded, had been the incident with Bellatrix. Harry hadn't figured out how to control what was happening with his magic back then, so Malfoy would be in for a bit of a shocker.

"If you'd care to get back to the business at hand, Malfoy," Harry suggested, still feeling the smile linger in the back of his mind.

Draco shrugged negligently. "Very well then," he said. And then he whipped about, quick as a snake and hissed, "_Flamare_!" Ron barely had time to throw himself to the side and avoid the streak of red light that hurtled toward him before the battle was on.

"He didn't wait for the call to start!" someone, a girl, called angrily from the group of students. Harry turned to face them, letting the duel progress behind him. He could feel the magic ebbing and flowing, and had a pretty good idea of the evenness of the match. As long as Ron didn't get pissed and stupid.

"Deatheaters don't wait for an invitation," he said starkly, shoving his hands in his pockets and loosing all of the smile that had remained. "They will attack you from behind, in the dark, any way they can catch you off guard."

Ron, meanwhile, was doing some rather nice acrobatics as he dodged Malfoy's fairly impressive Cutting Charms. "Ron's saving his magic, and dodging instead," Harry said, narrating once more. "A lot of time, it's smarter to duck than to fire aimlessly back at an enemy." He winced a bit as one caught his friend on the upper arm, and blood started to seep through his shirt sleeve. Ooh, that had to hurt.

"Harry, he's hurt! Stop the duel!" someone shouted.

"Do you think a Deatheater will stop, if you get a cut?" Harry shot back, voice hard. They didn't understand. Not yet. "You want to live, you have to work through pain. Know how to handle it." Ron was still holding his own, he noted with pleasure, although he was moving a bit slower. He did land a good tickling charm, however, that gave him just a scant few seconds to get to a better position and start firing stunning spells. Unfortunately for him, Draco was just as good at ducking and probably a bit more experienced with the whole matter.

"_Reverso_!" Malfoy shouted, and Ron was abruptly hit upside the head with a bolt of his own blue light. He dropped like a stone, a rather large one, considering his size. Malfoy straightened out of his crouch, breathing hard, Harry noted with malicious pleasure. He strode over, limping just a touch from possibly a Foot Inflammation Hex, and grabbed the wand out of Ron's limp hand, his own never leaving the other boy's chest. He muttered under his breath, and Ron was promptly wrapped in thick cords from head to toe.

"Rule number one," Malfoy snarled, turning back around. "Never, NEVER, leave your opponent with a wand, or the possibility of fighting back. Deatheaters may have two wands. They may have other nasty potions or toys hidden up their sleeves. Always take the wand, snap it, and leave them tied up. Or dead."

There was a hissing murmur from the crowd at that, and Malfoy gave Harry a smirk, as if expecting him to contradict what he'd just said. Harry merely raised his eyebrows. "When it's life or death, be sure you know whose life you'd prefer to continue," he said coolly. "Yours or his." There was a slight hint of consideration behind those silver eyes, and the barest suggestion of a nod. Perhaps he and Malfoy could work together, after all.

"Right then," he said, turning back to the crowd. "You just saw a pretty good duel. Dodging. Ignoring pain. Using spells both simple and complex, trying to take your opponent off guard. Finally, completely disabling your opponent." He gave a nod. "Pair up, and have at. Pull no punches, and I mean it," he said.

There was a pause before movement slowly began, a murmur starting to rise from the crowd as people shifted about. Nothing really happened until Hermione's voice rang out, "_Expellariamus_!" and suddenly Ernie MacMillan was without his wand. And then dueling began.

Harry walked over to Malfoy and held out his hand for Ron's wand. The Slytherin studied him a moment before tossing it at him. Harry caught it out of the air without a problem.

"You dodged me, Potter. Why?" the blonde boy demanded.

Harry quirked one corner of his mouth at him. "I didn't want you dead," he said, with perfect seriousness.

Draco scowled, as if he was going to say something nasty, and then paused. "You're quite serious," he said, in a low voice.

Harry nodded, eyes on the silver ones. "I'm trusting you to help me save lives, Malfoy," he said. "I'm not about to make you look a bloody idiot before you begin."

Draco was silent another moment, that cool, blank look he so often wore on his face. "Fair enough," he finally said. "Only you still owe me that duel."

Harry nodded. "Fair enough," he echoed before turning back to Ron. He shook his head and started muttering counter-curses and healing charms before saying, "_Ennervate_."

Ron groaned and shook his head from his position on the floor, barely audible over the noise of the duels and spells flying about them. "I lost, didn't I?" he said glumly.

"Bang, you're dead," Draco drawled, ever so kindly from behind Harry.

"Put a sock in it, Malfoy," Ron said, so surprisingly not rising to the bait that Harry blinked. He heaved himself to his feet and held out his hand for his wand. "What?" he asked, the tips of his ears going red as Harry regarded him with interest.

"Just curious at how you're so calm about it all," Harry said quietly, tilting his head and considering. And more than a little tempted to take a peek inside his mind.

Ron shrugged, ears going redder. "I'm just like them," he said, nodding. "I need to practice and learn. And Malfoy's pretty good, ass that he is." Then Ron smirked, completely ignoring the Slytherin standing nearby. "Besides, I'll get him next time."

"You keep telling yourself that, Weasley," Draco drawled.

Harry grinned and handed over the wand. "Right then. Ron, you know the drill. Draco, we'll prowl about, try to keep anyone from ending up dead and heal anything that's dripping. Offer tips if you see the chance. Next time we'll work on some specific spells, but for now, let's get them used to the idea of fighting."

Draco gave a jerk of his head and glided off into the crowd, quite impressively for someone with a sore foot. Harry supposed he should have healed the other boy, but heck. He'd just rendered his best mate unconscious.

Ron gave a jerk of his head. "Shall we?" he asked.

Harry set his jaw. He didn't particularly want to, but that hadn't been a legitimate reason for him since he'd entered this school. "Right," he said.

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Cara was in pain by the time the hour-long session was over. Holy gods, Harry was going to kill them. And he was going to let Draco help. Of course, she thought, hobbling slowly toward Gryffindor, she could always end Draco's life and remove that problem. She knew just where to hit him, too...

A shadow detached itself from behind a statue as she stomped past, muttering. "McDaniels," it said softly.

She turned and glared, setting hands on hips. "I'm not terribly happy with you right now," she announced to the dark hallway. Humph. Of course Ginny had to stay behind and neck with Harry. Bloody friend.

Draco walked slowly toward her, eyes steady, intent. That swirling gray that always seemed to be saying more than she heard. "You told me before that you would be in this war whether I wanted you to or not," he said quietly, hands uncharacteristically in his pockets. "And if I haven't said it to you yet, my priority in this whole debacle is to keep you alive. So here I am."

Cara blinked and then swallowed. "The only reason you're doing this is for me?" she asked. Her voice wobbled just a bit.

He looked away, as if considering. "Almost all," he finally said. Eyes still off into the darkness. "I have no love for the Dark Lord or his minions. I would not fight for them. But I have no desire to risk my own life to stop them." His eyes turned back to hers. "But I'll risk it to keep yours."

Cara's eyes suddenly burned, and watered. She wasn't unaware by this point, of just how difficult it had been for Draco to get to where he was, given his past. He'd been a good little apprentice Deatheater for so long, and then it had all changed. Professor Snape had done that when she'd somehow gotten hold of Draco's heart. Cara had no illusions. The Potion Mistress was deeply loved by her boyfriend. She was mother and teacher and mentor and most trusted friend. Cara suspected it was because she had been the first person to truly care for him.

Her husband, that scary old bat, was more like Draco. Although from what she'd gleaned from Ginny, Snape _was_ an active participant against the Dark Lord. He'd been a spy, it was said, and now buried himself in research to help the Light side.

And here was this blonde, gray-eyed Slytherin, watching her with cool eyes as he waited for her reaction to the news that he considered her life worth saving, and his unimportant. What was a girl to do?

Cara promptly burst into tears and flung herself against her boyfriend. Lips met, hands and arms clung, and the two went tumbling against the wall in a tight embrace. As hard, warm lips ravaged her own, Cara spared one thought from the sheer physical pleasure of it all. If his only thought was to be careful with her life, then it was up to her to be careful with his.

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Severus sat back in his chair, really not wanting to be at yet another staff meeting. Didn't Albus have _anything_, anything at all, better to do?

And of course, the old coot took that moment to call on him. "Come now, Severus," the Headmaster smiled. "Don't you agree?"

"I do not care one jot for what the Astronomy Tower has in it," he shot back, knowing the old man was baiting him and just annoyed enough to rise to it. "Get on with it, and end this bloody meeting, Albus."

McGonagall smirked at him from her seat across the table, as if enjoying his discomfort. Which, of course, she was. They each took great pleasure in baiting each other, house pride being only a part of the matter. To be perfectly frank, he had the greatest respect for the older witch, and always had. She was downright terrifying with a wand, and he knew it. She seemed to hold him in some kind of respect as well, he thought, with no small satisfaction. Probably because he could hold his own with wand, wits and words. He sneered back companionably.

Next to him, his bloody wife decided it was time to pick on him a bit. "Oh, dear, Severus must not have taken his Cheering Charm today," his loving spouse cooed. There was a ripple of amusement around the table, and he favored all those smirking with an evil glare that promised retribution. Perhaps a nice laxative in the pumpkin juice, come morning...

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was coughing lightly, eyes twinkling like the damned annoying old git that he was. "If I may continue," he said, pursing his lips inquiringly. Severus glared once more, and then turned his attention back.

"I must now speak on a far more serious note," the Headmaster said, and now Severus began to pay attention. Hmm, perhaps there _was_ a reason he'd been told this meeting was mandatory. "As some of you have discerned, the students have once again formed a certain club, one that was last seen two years ago, when the charming Professor Umbridge was with us." There was a muttering at that. The Hogwarts professors had still not forgiven or forgotten that wretched woman. "I speak, of course, of the DA."

"They've started again?" Flitwick queried. "But why, Albus? After all, we do have young Bill here, who is quite competent in the Defense Against the Dark Arts." Weasley gave a nod to the Charms professor in thanks, but didn't turn his attention from the Headmaster. Which was points to him, Severus supposed. Unfortunately.

"All of you know that Voldemort is growing in strength," Dumbledore said, completely serious. There was no remnant of the twinkle remaining in his eyes. "That he is gathering his forces, that it has been far too quiet for far too long. Indeed, many of you have spoken to me of your worries." The Headmaster sighed. "There is no way to hide from it, my friends. And no matter how the ministry wishes to avoid it, the fact remains. War is coming. And it is coming quickly."

"Bloody Fudge," Weasley muttered, and there was a murmur of agreement. No one at the table was a fan of the Minister of Magic, even though he'd finally come around after that debacle with Potter and friends at the Department of Mysteries and admitted Voldemort was alive and well. No, dear old Cornelius was dragging his feet as much as ever, determined to prove that things weren't nearly as bad as they seemed. Unfortunately, Voldemort's pause in activities to gather his strength just gave the Minister a chance to be louder in his minimization of the danger.

"I fear I must share your sentiment, William," Dumbledore said gravely. "Cornelius is certainly not helping, and may possibly be hindering. Regardless," and here everyone straightened. Severus included. They were about to get some new information. "An attack is coming, my friends. This year, on this castle. Voldemort will seek to destroy his strongest enemies in one swift blow, and it may well be that we will be the only ones standing in his way."

There was silence for a long moment as that was digested, before McGonagall spoke up. "How do you know, Albus?" she asked. That was another thing Severus had to admire the Head of Gryffindor for. She never failed to ask the hard questions.

The Headmaster looked over at his Transfiguration Professor. "Young Mr. Potter, I fear," he said. There was a collective sigh of dismay. Potter's 'warnings' had so far had a rather unfortunate tendency to come true. The incident at the end of his fifth year being the notable exception. "And so it leads us to the DA once again. Mr. Potter has taken it upon himself to ensure that his fellow students are not left defenseless when the battle comes to them."

"They're only students," Sprout protested. "They shouldn't be fighting."

"The Dark Lord doesn't care for 'shouldn't', Sprout," Severus snarled at her, feeling darkness drag at his soul. Would this unending pursuit of the Light by the Dark ever be finished? "The students will be tossed into the whole mess if the battle's here, and some houses," he shot a dirty look at McGonagall, "are foolhardy enough to get involved even without the proper knowledge."

"Hence Mr. Potter teaching them," she snapped back at him, always defending her star student. Bloody Gryffindors. Sonora reached below the table and laid a comforting hand on his leg. For her, he refrained from continuing in that vein, settling instead for glowering and muttering under his breath.

"If you would please?" Dumbledore waited a moment before the teachers all turned their attention back his way, the Heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin the last to do so. "I wish to ask you all, do not penalize the students for their participation. Allow some leniency if they are in the halls, moving to or from the meeting. We may trust in the leadership of Mr. Potter," he nodded at McGonagall, who smirked. "And in that of Mr. Malfoy."

Now it was Severus' turn to smirk, even though the information was news to him. Malfoy had gotten involved in this little party? Well, he supposed the students might possibly get _some_ understanding of what they faced, then.

"And what about us, Headmaster?" Weasley spoke up, face serious. "What can we do to help prepare?"

Dumbledore looked at him. "I fear we can do nothing but wait, my friends. Brush up on your combat skills. Pour over old books of curses and hexes. Try to discover yet another way to protect the castle from invasion." He sighed. "Hogwarts possesses a magic all of its own, and when the time comes, will not stand idly by as it is laid under attack. But in the meanwhile, we must ready ourselves any way possible. You will know what you need to do, when the time comes."

Bloody Dumbledore and his bloody vague statements, Severus thought sourly. Sure, he knew what he'd have to do. Put his body in front of others and die at the end of a former compatriot's wand.

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Ginny waited until all the students had left, and it was only Harry, standing and staring out the window at the dark grounds below. He was turning over in his hands a bit of bandage that Hermione had conjured for Hannah Abbott's head after she'd gotten a good knock when she'd crashed into a wall.

"Harry," she finally said softly.

He turned his head and looked at her. Those grass-green eyes were distant, shuttered. "They shouldn't have to," he finally said.

She looked back, intent and determined. "Neither should you," she told him softly, yet again.

His mouth twisted in some semblance of a smile, and he tossed the bit of bandage away. "It's my bloody destiny, not theirs," he said, putting his hands in his pockets and beginning to wander moodily about the room. "No one should have to do what I'm about to make them do."

Ginny'd heard it all before, and frankly, wasn't too interested in hearing it again. Harry still didn't understand, and maybe he wouldn't ever. But in the meantime, she knew there were more important things than brooding. She tucked her wand safely away, and began to walk toward him, unbuttoning the top three buttons of her rather sweaty school blouse as she did. It took Harry a minute to notice, but soon enough he was looking rather wide-eyed at the gap that showed a nice bit of cleavage.

"Err, Gin?" he said, as she stepped close to him.

"Shut up, Harry," she told him companionably. "You're going to worry and fret and feel guilty, and you won't let me help with that. So for now, we're going to put everything else aside, and there's just going to be us. Ok?"

He was still looking down, a fairly fascinated look in his eyes. It really was gratifying, after all this time, to see that slightly dazed look in her long-time love's face. He swallowed. "Ok," he said.

Ginny grinned and reaching out, caught him by the front of his shirt. "I really like you in this kind of dishevelled uniform look," she told him, before yanking him down and kissing the lights out of the both of them.

When they came up for air, they were both breathing hard. Harry's hands had found their way under the edge of her shirt and onto the bare skin of her back. She twisted one in his hair and the other was busy unbuttoning his shirt. "You make me forget there's a war," he said, rather thickly as she worked her way down his front, smoothing buttons away from fabric, stroking exposed skin and dropping soft, damp kisses against his chest. Lordy, she loved how a boy was put together, so different from a girl. He was all hard and muscles where she was soft and breasts.

"Good," she said, her own voice hoarse, and he kissed her. Hot, wet, and hungry. That kiss built and built until it was hands and tongues and bodies pressing closer and closer, parts aching to be touched. Somehow they wound up on the ground, on the practice mat, Harry's body half covering hers, his clothes strewn about, mixed with hers. Ginny moaned, her head tipping back and back arching as his lips ran over the tips of her bare breasts. Her fingers dug into the skin of his lower back, dipping even lower to clutch at his rear.

"I... you make me crazy," he said thickly, voice muffled against the skin of her belly, hands stroking up her legs.

"Me too," she gasped, rather incoherently. He seemed to understand, however, because his body moved against hers, and his hands slid into those dark, hot places that were just aching for his touch and Ginny cried out, clutching at him. He slipped his fingers under the edge of her panties, stroking over her hot, wet, sensitive flesh, and then ever so hesitantly pressed inside. She gasped, shocked at how it felt, so good and so terrifying all at once.

"Merlin," he muttered, moving his hand just a bit and sending waves of pleasure through her agan.

"Do that again," she mangaged, absolutely positive that something very nice would happen if he did. He did as she asked, and the feeling built. She groaned, and it seemed to encourage him. He did it again, and again, and Ginny felt herself winding tighter and tighter, clutching at him and pressing close and panting as she reached.

And then something inside her snapped, and her entire body seemed to explode inside itself. Strange little cries escaped her throat as she shuddered and shook. Nothing had ever felt this good before in her life.

Slowly her body seemed to calm, and she breathed hard, looking up to see Harry leaning over her, a look of awe and smug pleasure on his face. "What...?" she started.

It was cut off by a swooping kiss, one that just about got the whole thing started again, before he broke away. "We better stop," he said, voice thick.

Ginny pouted at him. "Why?" she asked, running fingertips over his back and making him shudder.

"Because I'm not going to screw this up," he said, closing his eyes and leaning into her caress. "I'm not rushing anything."

"Humph," she grumbled, bringing her hands around to trace his front. "Meanie."

He gave a rather pained laugh. "Believe me. I'm suffering." Ginny gave a glance down and blushed furiously, and Harry opened his eyes in time to catch the full effect. "I do love those full-body blushes," he said, grinning.

"Oh, shut it," she muttered, turning redder.

"Nah," he said, still grinning as he lifted himself off her and reached to pull her up. "I don't think I will."

Ginny raised one delicate eyebrow as she began shrugging back into her clothes. "Two words," she said sweetly.

He held up his hands. "Ok, ok, enough said," he said. Clearly remembering a certain conversation from the dinner table earlier. Clothes all in place, she waited while he checked to see that his own wand was tucked in his pocket, and then took his hand when he held it out.

As they were stepping out of the doorway and started down the dark, empty halls, Harry looked down at her. Feeling his eyes, she looked up. "Thanks," he said quietly.

She blushed, bright red even in the dark. "For what?" she answered, embarrassed.

He smiled. "For making me forget, for a nice long minute," he answered. She squeezed his hand in return and as they made their way to the tower, sadly wished that it could have been more than a minute.

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**AN: So there you are, my dear, dear friends! Holy hell, look at the length of this chapter! Really, I should have made it two. But here I am, a sucker for those gazillion reviews and all those wonderful concerns for my rather nasty cold, giving you a monster of a chapter. With smut, no less.**

**brokentoy19, mary-v** - I teach music to little darlings grades K-5. Most of the time I even like it. Lol.

**Hplovah** - Perhaps that little conversation above will answer your question about Draco's loyalties. He IS a Slytherin, you know, and their first concern is their own. Besides, how could he pass up the chance to hex Gryffindors? (smirk)

**James And Lily 4eva** - Aw, come on, Draco was always going to do the right thing! Maybe. Ok, so it was questionable. And Draco will never be _nice_ to the vast majority of people out there, you're right, he's too much like Snape. Both of them don't care too much about what people want, with the notable exception of the women in their life. Lucky girls...

**Plateado** - I have a sister of my own who as repeated volunteered to 'take care of'' all those extra Weasleys. (Physically restraining said sister, who is currently calling 'mine, all mine!' at a rather scared looking Charlie Weasley)

**Openspy** - The window option is not yet off the table. (wink, wink)

**Hawkeyessabre** - Sorry, but you've got a little more to wait for the latest on Ron and Hermione. Hope the above compensated...

**Starchild71177** - Thank you! I'm always glad to hear that characters are stay in, well, character. Lol. As for Ireland, I spent five months living and studying there when I was in college. The University of Limerick, it was. (reminiscing fondly)

**Severus' Wife** - (smirking) Hah! You are too late! You never should have taken that vacation. I have performed a switching spell, replacing all the chocolate in the world with object from my home. I'm eating my new 'chair' as we speek.

**Echosound** - Ah, well, oops on the Britany! (is that right? Lol) Enjoy the story!

**Ferggirl99** - You know, I get an awful lot of complaining out of you... especially since you've currently got Charlie locked up in your closet! Really, you should let the poor guy out ever now and then to use the bathroom. Lol. And nope, it's still Fudge in this fic. I did try to do a little clarification, though, so I hope this chapter helped... And shut up on my typos. The spellcheck doesn't catch that, and I was tired. (sticking out tongue) Hermione was there, but she was kind of hanging back. Ron's taking the lead on this one, and she's still mulling over what was said at dinner.

**Harry/Ginnyfan4ever** - Sorry, my dear, you'll have to wait a bit longer for that one. I hope Ron ending up unconcious sufficed? Lol.

**Child-of-scorpio** - I do like Draco as the white ferret. Hmm... an idea for that promised match later on... (begins gorging on cookies) I better eat these before you get violent.

**Lumos girl** - See, I'm always boggled by poor spelling, when there's that nice little button sitting up at the top of the word processor... goes by the name 'spellcheck'... Glad you're liking. Keep reading and reviewing!

**Silver Warrior** - What did you do, read all the chapters in one sitting? Wow... you brave, brave soul. Who apparently has a lot of free time. Lol. Glad you're enjoying. As for Hermione being told off by Harry, well, we all secretly love it when the smart kid gets something wrong. Lol.

**CreativeQuill** - Tears are always good. For me, anyway. (grinning evilly) I hope the rest of the fic's living up to your expectations.

**James Potter's Lily Flower** - I don't know what to tell you about the problem with seeing the pages... if it's a persistant problem, you should report it. Fanfiction maintains the pages, not me.

**MrsSakuraPOtter** - Ok, I finally dragged myself over and reviewed. See? I can do two things at once... and please notice, no cliffie this time.

**FemmeDraconis** - I do love my Ronnie. (sighs) Too bad he's all Hermione's. (back, ferggirl99, back!)

**Barbelibou** - Sorry you were confused, chalk it up to cold medication! Hope this is better...

**Moonglaze** - Ain't it wonderful to contemplate a pride of Weasleys? Hmm...

**Cherryblossom08, Krissy, sugarbaby, WorldConqueror, Tsusetsu, lluvatar, elijah'stheone, elvengoddess696, Tooki, kpxiceboi, MusicMonkey88, echosound, Karrie, obsessed87, LeighVionna, volleypickle16, foxyginny** - Thank you all! Your well-wishes and offered cold remedies definitely helped. (grins) Not to mention the copious amounts of chocolate. Keep those reviews coming!


	22. Time Begins To Tighten

AN: Yes, yes, it's been forever, I know... but hey! Didn't the last chapter count twice? Or... something?

Chapter 21

Sonora Snape frowned and resisted the urge to hurl the heavy tome in front her against the far wall. Bloody blast it all, she thought, shoving a hand through the thick locks of hair that had come loose. She'd been at it all so long, the charm she normally kept her hair neat with had worn off. Damn it all to hell. Two years, they'd been trying to adapt this potion. Two bloody years.

Finally giving in to that feeling of overwhelming frustration, she grabbed the glass beaker that was sitting oh so innocently on her desk and hurled it with great enthusiasm toward the wall. It smashed with a wonderfully satisfying crash, so she grabbed another. She'd managed to deplete nearly half the rack of clean beakers before she was grabbed from behind.

"What the bloody blazes are you doing, woman?" her husband's voice sounded in her ear. She squirmed a bit, still angry at herself and more than ready to throw another. "You've managed to destroy a good two dozen beakers!"

"Let me... ooff..." she grunted, still squirming. Hah. Like there was anyway she'd managed to get out of _his_ arms if he didn't let her. Still, it was a token protest. "It made me feel better!"

There was a sigh behind her, his breath brushing warm against the nape of her neck. "Sonora," that deep, dark, velvety voice said softly. "We will find a way."

She quit the struggling, and sighed herself, sinking back against him. She could always count on Severus to hold her up when she stumbled, literally and figuratively. "I know," she said, feeling dangerously close to tears, "but we're so _close_! And they'll need it, Severus, they need it even now."

She was gently turned around and folded even closer. Sonora pressed her cheek into his shoulder, against the slightly scratchy material of his plain work robe. "We will find a way," he said again over her head.

Sonora gave a small nod, her heart still sick inside her. Harry Potter had said the war was coming. Coming soon, no less, and coming here. She had to find a way... they both did. If the war came to Hogwarts, Severus would put his body on the front line, and he would have a very large target painted on it. So many of his former compatriots would like to take him down... she couldn't bear to loose him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist and she hugged him closer.

His arms were strong and tender and everything she needed, and all the more precious because he saved those moments solely for her. "I suspect Malfoy will be coming by soon," he murmured into her hair, his fingers already drifting to the pieces that had come loose. The man had a fascination with the stuff. She didn't quite understand it, after all, it was only hair and not particularly remarkable hair at that. It was just long, thick and dark.

He was winding a loose lock around his finger. "I suppose I should clean up," she grumbled, not really wanting to move. She soaked up his warmth, his strength like a plant to light. She needed him as much as he needed her, she thought, not for the first time.

He gave a slight tug. "Indeed," he said. "And put your hair back up." That was another thing. The man didn't like to share, even something so little as her hair being loose. Which was fine with her, after all, loose hair was a pain in the neck.

Heaving a large sigh, she stepped back out of his arms and proceeded to rework the twists, pins and charms that kept her hair smooth and tied back and up. Severus watched, those eyes dark and warm, while he gave a flick of his wand and a murmured word, and had the beakers flying back to their rack, good as new.

"There," she grumbled, last pin in place. "Back to the bloody drawing board."

He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. "We will find something," he told her one last time, drawing back only slightly.

She sighed, for the millionth time, it seemed, and reached up to kiss him again. "You're right," she said.

As she spoke, there was a discrete tap against the door and Sonora looked over to see Draco leaning against the open door. "Come in," she told the boy with a weary smile. He straightened, giving Severus a nod as he did. Severus of course gave a very manly nod back. Sonora resisted the familiar urge to giggle. How alike they were, those two... And then she thought of a green-eyed boy. All three of them. So similar, so sure that they had to take the world on their shoulders.

Sonora straightened her own. It was up to the women around them, the friends, lovers and peers, to keep those three from killing themselves to save them all. "Right then," she said with a warm smile for her two dearest men. "Shall we?"

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Harry was sitting in the common room, ready to beat his brains out over his bloody Care of Magical Creatures homework. Honestly, Hagrid was stark raving nutters. Three feet on the care and feeding of flobberworms? Three inches, maybe. But three feet? For the NEWTS class?

Across from him, Ron was muttering something under his breath that seemed to be along the same lines. "Bloody crazy... Hagrid doesn't seem to... dumb friggin'... bloody hell!" Harry glanced up at the last one, to find that Ron had managed to spill his whole bottle of ink across his paper. Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Problem?" he asked.

Ron reached into the mess of ink and gingerly plucked a note out of the sopping black pool. "_Scorgify_," he said absently, pointing his wand with rather black fingers. "I got hit with this." He held up the note and wrinkled his nose at the amount of ink on the outside.

Harry cocked his head, curious. "What's in it?" he asked. It seemed like the ink was dripping off, rather than soaking in. Someone had a repelling charm on it? Harry started to get a sneaking suspicion.

Ron unfolded the note carefully, scowling as more ink dripped off onto the table. His eyebrows drew together in one red line as he read, and then he frowned. "Well?" Harry demanded, dying to know if he was right and a certain Head Girl had had a revelation or two.

Somewhat to his surprise, Ron tossed the note across the table at him. "Read it," he said shortly, and turned back to his homework.

Harry gave his friend a quizzical glance, and then picked up the rather short-looking note.

_Ron,_

_Take a walk with me after patrol. We need to talk._

_H._

Harry frowned. Huh? That didn't particularly sound like something good, he thought, darting an ominous look at Ron's rather red face. He folded the net again. "You going?" he asked quietly.

One corner of Ron's mouth twisted rather sadly, but he didn't look up. Hermione's reaction to his flowers clearly still hurt. "Course I am," he said gruffly. "Since when do I not do what Hermione tells me?" He caught Harry's look as he glanced up. "Eventually," he qualified.

Harry conceded that one. Sooner or later, Ron always did what Hermione nagged him about. Oh, sure, there were the times when he managed to convince his fellow Head to change HER mind, but then it was still Hermione in charge.

Harry sat back and studied his friend. Ron looked up as he felt the stare. "What?" he asked, looking a bit irritated.

Harry cocked his head. "Want a word of advice?" he asked.

Ron snorted. "Right. You've been dating my sister less than a week, and you want to give me advice? Fuck off, Potter."

Harry ignored him. Naturally the guy was frustrated. He'd been, too. "She's been catching you off guard with the whole kissing thing," he said, crossing his arms and stretching out his legs. "Seems to me you should turn the tables."

Now Ron looked at him. "What?"

Harry shrugged and gave him a little grin. "Might as well," he said. "You're stuck on her, she's stuck on you... You're both letting a whole lot of shit get in the way. And yes, that's something I know plenty about," he said, forestalling Ron's open mouth.

Ron snapped his mouth shut and glared at him a minute, then sat back. "So you're saying, what? Just shut her up the fun way?"

Harry winced. "Didn't need that image, thanks," he said, trying not to get a visual. "But, yeah. Basically. You'll both be happier, and to be serious, mate," he said, face and voice becoming just that, "There's only so much time left to sort this sort of thing out before it'll get bad." He gave Ron a steady stare. "Do you really want to spend these last few months before war at each other's throats?"

Ron frowned at him, but seemed to be thinking. Harry shrugged and bent back to his paper. A moment later, Ron did the same.

A good hour later, Harry jumped as a hand came down on his shoulder. "Merlin, Hermione," he grumbled as the Head Girl leaned over his shoulder, reading what he'd written. "Give a bloke some warning."

Ron meanwhile had started packing up. "Patrol time?" he asked in a very neutral voice.

Hermione looked up from his paper, and Harry could see her bite her lip. "Yes," she said. "We've got the Astronomy Tower tonight."

"Bloody lovely," Ron mumbled. "It'll be freezing. I'd better get my cloak." And he disappeared up the stairs.

Hermione's hand slipped off Harry's shoulder, and he turned to look up at her as she stared after Ron. She looked so confused, he thought. Not a usual look for their favorite walking brain. "You know, it's really very easy, Hermione," he said softly.

She blinked and looked down at him. "Huh?" she asked, clearly having been caught off guard.

He leaned back to see her face better. "It's not that complicated," he said again. "Just a matter of the heart." He gave her a faint smile. "Simply follow directions."

Hermione stared at him, then blinked. "Since when did you get so introspective, Harry?" she demanded. "You, who hasn't wanted to say a word outside of Quidditch or classes for the last two years?"

Harry shrugged, a little embarrassed. "With you two, I've been saving it up that long," he said. "Don't worry, I'm pretty sure that's all I've got. I'll have to ask Ginny for anything else."

Hermione snorted, but seemed to be eyeing him with a rather frightening look. "You're being good to Ginny, right?" she asked.

Harry widened his eyes at her. "She has six, count them, SIX older brothers," he said. "I think you'd hear if I wasn't." Of course, god help him if any of said brothers found out what they'd been doing in the Room of Requirement... Harry tried not to flush. He'd save those thoughts for later to savor.

Hermoine smiled a bit at that, but anything she might have said was cut off by Ron's heavy tramp. "Think about it," Harry got out before Ron came swinging over to them, cloak wrapped around him.

"Let's go," he grumbled. "And I swear, if I catch Martin Filburton up there one more time, I'm tying the kid's legs together and using him as a new flag for the top of Gryffindor. That kid has more bloody girlfriends than Harry does enemies."

Harry snorted, amused, and watched as the two left the common room together. He glanced toward the stairs and the girls' dormitories. Ginny had headed right upstairs, rather cheekily claiming to be tired, after giving him a short kiss that had just left his aching body wanting more.

He breathed out a sigh. He didn't quite know what he was doing with her. Was it only last week, he'd been swearing he wouldn't risk the person who mattered most? And yet, here he was with his hand up her skirt a week later. He flushed brick red, almost feeling his glasses steam as he remembered that particular moment as she'd given that little mewling cry and he'd felt that awesome feeling of love and power sweep through him...

Harry jerked himself out of his memory and back to the real world, rather thankful there was a table in front of him, as several noisy first years came into the room. He blew out a breath. He had an essay to finish, then Quidditch practice to plan. Their first game, against Ravenclaw, was coming up and he needed to work his beaters just a bit harder. And then there were those spells Hermione was working on... he should see if he could do a few. He needed as much firepower as he could get.

Harry sighed, feeling the warm tenseness drain away and a cold ball of anxiety take it's place. Sometimes he really feared he stood no chance at all. Against a man who'd spent his entire life practicing the dark arts? How was he, a teenager, supposed to beat this guy? And why the bloody hell couldn't Dumbledore, who was supposed to be the most powerful wizard alive, just blow Voldemort to smithereens?

A power he knows not, Harry thought in frustration. Yeah, well, Voldemort wasn't the only one in the dark on that one. Sure, Harry was pretty strong at casting spells. But he was under no illusions. Voldemort was better.

He reached out and picked up his quill. He'd better finish the essay, he thought, and then get to work. There was so little time left to figure it all out. He glanced at the portrait door. So little time, for so very much.

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**AN: So there's a hint of Ron/Hermione for you all... thanks to popular demand. And I imagine Ginny's going to get woken up in the middle of the night for a powwow when patrol time is over. (Oh, how I love giving teasers...)**

**Sibling Creature** – I have the same nasty tendency myself. I've lost a lot of evenings lately to, ahem, reading when I should have been doing something else. Like marking all those bloody papers...

**Child-of-scorpio** – Yum, chocolate. It's ALWAYS much appreciated. As to what's coming... don't you have some idea yet? Lol.

**Cherryblossom08** – Me? Like smut? Nah, you've got me confused with some other writer. I've never written a smutty word in my life. (stares in amazement as nose grows to seven feet long) I better see someone about that... As for Draco, I don't think Harry's the kind of guy who really wants _anyone_ dead, even Malfoy. And the pair of them, they've done quite a bit of growing up the hard way in the last two years.

**Barbelibou** – I happen to be quite fond of broccoli, especially when its on a potato and covered in melted cheese... yum... And your sucking up is top notch. Really. You could market it. Lol. Hope this chapter satisfied.

**MusicMonkey88** – Patience! After all, they ARE just teenagers. And as I recall those fumblings around in a certain redhead's basement, back in high school... ahh... (clears throat) As I was saying, those first bits of experimenting can be rather intimidating and terrifying, even while their unbearably exciting. I actually feel like I'm rushing the two for the sake of the story. Not that they seem to mind...

**MrsSakuraPotter** – Snape's an acquired taste, I admit. Rather fortunately for my plot lines, I seem to be addicted. Lol.

**FemmeDraconis** – Glad you enjoyed. Yep, nasty cold is all gone, I think. (crossing fingers)

**Ferggirl99** – Jeeze, give the girl the go-ahead to say what she wants, and she writes a book. Lol. Seriously sis, you rock. And I AM going to read your book. Eventually. (looking guilty). Anywhoo. Yes, I needed to draw the profs back in, but to answer your question, may I point out they were also told to brush up their combat skills? They know they'll have to fight... And the DA is a student thing. It's still operating outside of classes, not as an official club. So the teachers aren't even invited. As for Ron and Hermione, my lips are sealed. Heh heh heh.

**Plateado** – Snape was the first story I wrote, and he's the dearest character to my heart. There's just something about tall, dark and brooding heroes... (licking lips) I'm always glad to hear he's staying in character.

**Silver Warrior** – Neville outsmarting Hermione, huh? I don't see it happening, but it does give me a related idea... (jotting notes down furiously) Hee hee hee... And I'm very fond of Snape, but I know a lot of people get a little queasy. Hence my torturing them with the scene above. Heh heh heh.

**PolkaDotty** – Here comes the Ron/Hermione...

**Hplovah, lluvatar, volleypickle16, mary-v, sambow24, lozzie, sugarbaby, James And Lily 4eva, Maddie, Adelle Rising, brokentoy19, kpxiceboi, echosound, foxyginny, haweyessabre, Moonglaze, hpjsr, cRaZLAdy1000KATZ, Openspy** – Glad you're all reading and enjoying! Quite a few of you mentioned you liked the smut... heh heh heh. I will point out that I rated this story "R", so it shouldn't be all that surprising. And I can probably guarantee that there'll be more to come... oh, and about all that R/Hr stuff people have been begging me for? Consider this a down payment....


	23. Finally, Friends

Chapter 22

Ginny was sound asleep, sleeping the well-deserved sleep of the just-recently-loved, when someone ruined her dream by rather rudely shaking her shoulder. Blast. And she'd just been getting to the good part, too...

"Fukkofft," she mumbled into her pillow, swatting aimlessly at the person. They didn't go away, however, just said something indistinct and shook her again. So Ginny did what any girl who had six older brothers would do: she hauled back and slugged them.

Lucky for the Head Girl, whom Ginny belatedly realized was the one kneeling on her bed being so rude, Ginny had aimed for the chest. As it was, Hermione was knocked backward onto the bed, wheezing and clutching her chest. "Ginny!" she gasped rather painfully.

Ginny squinted in the dark, only seeing the outline of bushy hair. "Oh, hell, Hermione," she sighed sleepily, pulling herself up. "I'm sorry. Well, ok, I'm not _that_ sorry, because you were waking me up, but if I'd realized it was you I'd have pulled my punch."

Hermione was massaging the spot that had been hit, still looking winded. "My god, you hit hard," she said.

Ginny shrugged. "Gred and Forge," was all she said.

Hermione sighed. "I just wanted to talk to you," the older girl said. Ginny raised an eyebrow at the uncertain tone of her voice. Hermione? Confused. Ginny grinned in the dark. He-_llo_, Ronnie.

Reaching over and through the curtains, she grabbed her wand off the bedside table. She cast a quick _aurus impervious_, and then followed with a _lumos_. Hermione's face suddenly appeared in the dim light, looking rather... hmm... rumpled. Ginny tried not to grin. Oh yes. It was her brother, all right.

"What's the matter?" she started with. After all, it never would do to scare the girl off. No no no, she'd been waiting too long for this. Too bad it hadn't happened about a month from now, she'd stand to rake in a lot of sickles.

Hermione bit her lip as she finally dropped her hand. "Ron and I were on patrol tonight," she began, and then stopped. Ginny peered. Hah. She was blushing.

"And?" Ginny prompted.

Hermone sighed. "We had to check classrooms, clear some broom closets, and the last stop was the Astronomy Tower." Ginny bit her lip, trying not to smile. Way to go, big brother, she thought.

"Anyway, we split up, checking corners once we were there," Hermione continued a little uncertainly. "Ron caught a couple of Ravenclaws and kicked them out, I didn't find anyone." Hermione fiddled with the bedspread and seemed to grind to a halt.

Ginny peered at her. Hmm. Clearly this was hard for the Head Girl. Right. That meant reinforcements. "Hold that thought," she said, holding up one hand. Slipping out of bed, she darted over to Cara's bed. Leaning over her friend, she passed on the shaking trend that had been started tonight. "Psst, Cara!" she hissed at her. She got a snarl back and a roll over. Ginny grinned. She knew how to wake her friend.

"Hermione's about to spill the beans on Ron!" she whispered in Cara's ear. Amazingly the girl sat straight up and stared at her with bleary eyes.

"What? Ron? Beans? Huh?" her friend said, words not quite getting finished, as Ginny suspected she was still half asleep. Ginny gave her hand a tug, and the two of them stumbled back to Ginny's bed, to find Hermione curled uncomfortably back against a bedpost.

Cara woke up with a vengeance when she saw Hermione. "Ohhhh," Ginny's best friend said. And grinned yet again. Apparently Ginny would be forgiven for the wake-up shake.

Cara settled down on the bed, dragging some of the covers to wrap around her. Ginny did the same, and the two of them looked expectantly at Hermione. There was a long, long pause.

"Well??" Ginny finally demanded.

Her mouth opened, and then closed, and Hermione blurted, "I... he... I don't know!"

Cara peered at Hermione in the light of Ginny's wand, then nodded and looked at Ginny. "I'd say, judging by the blush and the amount of embarassment, we're talking tongue, some over the clothes groping, and a large amount of shock."

"How'd you know?" Hermione demanded, seeming to snap out of it, before blushing even darker. Heck, in a minute, they wouldn't need the lit wand.

Cara smirked. "Trust me, I know," she said.

Ginny rubbed her hands. "So what happened?" she asked Hermione. "I mean, you've been trying to get my brother to this point for _years_. Why're you so..." she gestured.

Hermione lifted her hands and rubbed her face. "I, well, see we were finishing clearing the Astronomy Tower," she began again, sounding a bit more like herself. "And I had sent Ron a note earlier, asking him to have a talk with me after patrol. About what Harry had said," she said, looking at Ginny. Ginny nodded, and ignored Cara's pointed nudge.

"And so once we'd cleared the place, we were about done, and so I asked Ron if he'd like to talk. And he kind of gave me this long, funny look, and then turned around and pointed his wand at the door." She flushed again. "I... he locked it, and then turned back around and still had that funny look on his face. And he said something about how talking keeps getting in the way, and how Harry was right, it wasn't worth wasting time over the crap in the middle." She barely paused to breath. "And I'm wondering what on earth he's talking about, and then all of a sudden he's, well, _on_ me. Kissing me."

Cara nudged Ginny again. "Tongue," she whispered, smirking at the Head Girl's bright face.

"And... well, and I kind of forgot what was going on and I was kissing him and then there was a wall and..." Hermione was so red, Ginny considered freezing her and saving her for a Christmas decoration.

"Just how far did you go?" Cara asked, a gleam in her eye. Ginny winced, she really didn't want to know that about her brother.

Hermione shook her head frantically. "Well, he kind of dropped me and pushed away after a little bit, and said something about now it was my turn to give up the games and crap, and just walked away."

Ginny wanted to applaud her brother. Ron was so used to being the sidekick, the youngest boy, the last in line, that he usually didn't bother with that trademark Weasley forcefullness. But he _was_ Head Boy, after all, and she'd always known her brother was someone who could take charge and get things done. After all, there had been that time Fred and George had tied her favorite doll to their raft and sent it to the middle of the swimming pond and Ron had managed to tie a...

She jerked herself back and leaned over to tug Hermione to sit between her and Cara. "Mione," she said, borrowing her brother's affectionate nickname, "you just got kissed by a Weasley. REALLY kissed." She smiled proudly. "And no wonder you're all flummoxed. It's a common side effect."

Cara sputtered a bit. "From Ron?" she asked.

Ginny snorted. "Darling Cara, how do you think my parents ended up with seven kids?" she asked. "And how do you think Fred and George manage to keep their girls, what with all the pranks and explosions? Not to mention Percy, the prat, he's _still_ seeing Penelope, and Bill and Charlie can pretty much land any girl they want..."

Cara flapped her hand, cutting her off. "But Ron? He's always been so..."

Hermione interrupted. "Ron's perfectly capable of being forceful," she growled. Just a bit. It made Ginny grin, yet again. "He IS head boy, after all, and honestly, he's always the first to jump in and try to save someone, whether he's using his head or not, and just because Harry's always the center of attention because of that damn Voldemort doesn't mean Ron..."

Cara was snickering. "I get it, Hermione," she said, cutting the girl off. "I'm just glad that you finally do." She cocked her head at the older girl. "After all, you've led him around by the nose for so long, I was kind of wondering what would happen if he ever turned the tables on you."

"I don't lead him around by the nose!" Hermione sounded outraged, which Ginny suspected wasn't entirely all cover for the still-jumpy nerves.

"You mostly do," Ginny said, settling back to lean against the headboard. Cara did the same, but Hermione stayed sitting bolt upright. "Of course, it's because he lets you."

"You make me sound..." Hermione trailed off, and then sighed and sat back with the two of them. They sat, three in a row, quiet for a minute. Then Hermione spoke up again. "I guess I'm terribly bossy, aren't I?"

Ginny gave her a playful nudge. "Clearly, Ron likes that," she said.

Cara gave a nudge from the other side. "And clearly, you liked him bossing back," she said. She giggled. "Just how far did things go, anyway?"

Hermione's face flushed again. "Far enough," she said.

Ginny reached over and plucked at a loose thread on the front of Hermione's rumpled blouse. "Far enough to be missing a button?" she asked teasingly. Hermione moaned and dropped her head into her hands while Ginny and Cara giggled.

"Don't worry, dear, it's all perfectly normal and perfectly nice. Or naughty, however you want to think of it," Cara said soothingly, still with the wicked sparkle. "And just think, when you go over to him tomorrow and let him know that you're giving up on the games, you can get some more." Hermione moaned again, and Ginny snickered.

"Just wait until you get to more, Hermione," she said, a little dreamily. "It's very... nice."

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Harry sat at the breakfast table, opposite his girlfriend and ate toast. It was still quite weird to think of her that way. His girlfriend. The girl in question was smirking an awful lot this morning.

He brushed away crumbs. "So are you going to tell me?" he asked.

She smirked some more. "Tell you what?"

He rolled his eyes. "You realize, I'm going to find out eventually," he told her.

Ginny grinned. "But in the meantime, it's so nice to torture you."

Then Ron dropped down beside him, looking grumpy and tired. Harry gave his friend a look as Ron just stared at the food without reaching for it. "You ok?" he asked, concerned.

Ron rubbed a hand over his face. "I think I blew it," he muttered in a low voice. Ginny was leaning over the table, trying to hear them.

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Last night?" he asked. Ron nodded, and dropped his head to rest on his hands, flat on the table. Harry shot a look at Ginny, who was looking concerned yet quite satisfied. Huh. He had a pretty good idea what she'd been smirking about now.

And then out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Hermione coming into the Great Hall. She paused in the doorway, looking around a bit uncertainly. For them, he supposed. And then his eyes widened a bit, and he grinned. He nudged Ron, not so gently. "Oi, mate, I think you want to sit up and see this," he said.

Ron reluctantly lifted his head, and looked where Harry nodded. His own eyes got wide as he took in Hermione, looking uncomfortable as she waited in the doorway, wearing a wreath of daisies on top of her hair. The Great Hall wasn't exactly empty and people were pretty quick to notice the odd behavior of the Head Girl.

"Ron, you prat, move!" Ginny hissed. That seemed to jerk Ron out of whatever planet he was on, staring at Hermione, and he slowly got up. He walked over to Hermione and paused, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Well?" he said, and nearly every ear in the room, including some at the professor's table was straining to hear.

Hermione was looking quite pink, but was very determinedly looking at Ron. "I... I came to tell you, you're right," she said clearly. "And it's time to cut the crap." There was a collective gasp at the Head Girl's language, and then another as she reached over and tugged on his tie, pulling him down to kiss. And then the gasps turned to whoops and catcalls as he reached over and yanked her against him, kissing her back.

Harry winced and hurriedly looked away. NOT something he wanted to see. Ginny was doing the same. "Well," she said. "It's about damn time, but I do wish they'd take it outside."

Harry grinned. "Here comes McGonnagal," he said. "I think they're about to move."

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Harry was whistling as he headed toward Potions. Imagine. Whistling on his way to the Great Git's class. Ah, well, it wasn't every day your best friends got over four or so years of repression.

He was passing the second to last staircase and about to turn the corner when all of a sudden there was a quick snapping sound, like fingers clicking once. Harry whirled about, wand slipping into his fingers, eyes darting, searching. That wasn't a normal sound, and the hairs were standing up on the back of his neck.

The hallway was empty behind him, just as it had been all the way down. Except... he watched as a black sheet of paper drifted slowly toward the ground. He let it fall to the floor and stood for a long moment. Then he walked one foot at a time toward the letter, knowing what it was and not wanting to see it.

He didn't touch it, he wasn't that stupid. Instead he looked down.

_**Soon.**_

And then it burst into quick violet flames and was gone. Harry stared down at the few remaining ashes and resisted the urge to hurl magic to let loose some of the rage that was building inside of him. Instead he turned toward Potions, and took two steps before stopping.

Potions wasn't going to help him now. He turned back around and headed for a different hall, with a disappearing door. He could only think of one thing that could, and it now meant he didn't have time for anything else.

Harry took a deep breath and hoped beyond hope that they had enough time for a few more DA meetings, at least. Because he rather thought they were almost out of time.

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AN: Well, that should make you all happy. Happy enough to tell me aaaallll about it... (pointing at the little button at the bottom of the page, oh-so-innocently)

**Ferggirl99** – Let's start with Miss Chatty, shall we? First of all, NO the story's not over. Moron. (Again, anyone reading, I'm allowed to be insulting because this is my younger sister. Really.) There's that whole war-death-killing thing coming. As for Neville, like I said, I've got an idea or two in that department. Although I can't see Hermione letting anyone do better than her, not without putting up a heck of a fight. And I fixed the stupid FLOBBERWORMS.

**MrsSakuraPotter** – Ahem. Yes. Well. (shoving a random Weasley brother in your direction). Never mind about that "Chapter 13" thing. Just talk to Fred, here.

**Barbelibou** – Happy Belated Birthday! And you really don't know what the potion is? Think back to the previous two stories... particularly "Undercurrents". After all, I never said they'd solved that particular problem.

**Silver Warrior** – I tried to write this one as a story that can stand alone, but it is part of a bigger picture. Although I wouldn't exactly call Snape and Draco _nice_... more like not evil. Quite. Sort of.

**Obsessed87** – I do not! Honest! I think maybe we're overlapping, or something. (giving hopeful look) Please don't hate me...

**Hplovah, hpjsr, hawkeyessabre, volleypickle16, mary-v, Sibling Creature, foxyginny, Ariana15, lluvatar, Moonglaze, MusicMonkey88, lozzie, cherryblossom08, Amy** – Hah! There's the moment you've all been whining for, that R/Hr chapter. Now settle back and get your chocolate, because things are about to get messy. (And NO, not in a kinky way.)


	24. Planning Must Begin

AN: Ahem. Ok. See, there's this really pesky thing called "Real Life", and it SO got in the way of more important things, such as this little piece of fan fiction. Not that it'll ever happen again. (rolling eyes)

Chapter 23

It was Hermione who came and found Harry, several hours later. By then he was dripping sweat, singed around the ears and limping just a tad from a rather powerful Explosion Hex gone not quite right.

"Harry?" her voice came from behind him, and he spun around, reacting rather than thinking.

"_Imobilis!_" he snarled, fingers pointing before his body was all the way around. Then he saw it was Hermione and sighed. Damn. "Sorry," he muttered and flicked his fingers, letting her body stumble from its frozen position and back to normal.

"Merlin, you're getting awfully strong," she said, wincing just a bit. He rather thought she sounded a bit jealous, even. Harry felt the start of a rather dark grin. How like Hermione, to wish she could have freakishly strong magic. Hermione was all about learning, knowledge, delving farther and deeper into what was and what could be. After all, she had that incredible brain. But lets face it, he thought, flexing his fingers a bit and walking over to where he'd left his shirt, there was also a part of Hermione that liked being first.

Behind him, she tsked a little. "You're cut," she said, coming up behind him. "Hang on, let me get that."

"No, really..." he started, not wanting to talk about the kind of curses that had been flying around that room before she'd walked in.

Hermione shook her head, giving him a look that was rather chiding and motherly all at once. Motherly? Oy, he was getting hungry or something. "Harry, just shut up and let me take care of you before Ginny tracks you down and sees you banged up, ok?" Harry shut up. She had a point. Ginny would probably leave him in worse shape than she'd found him.

A line started form between Hermione's brows as she recited healing and diagnostic spells. Harry just stood still and watched her. She didn't say a word, however, and he was rather grateful. He wasn't up to another lecture quite yet; he still had that anger simmering in his veins.

She finally lowered her wand. "There," she said. "That'll do, I think." Then she turned and walked over to the window, dropping down into the wide window seat. "Now," she said, looking up at him. "Want to tell me?"

Harry grimaced and reached for his shirt again. "Not really," he muttered. Damn this talking thing.

She just waited, and finally Harry sighed, buttoning his shirt. "I was on my way to Potions," he started. "I got a message, I suppose you could say."

"We wondered, when you didn't show up for class," she said, drawing her knees up and clasping her arms around them as she watched him go back for his tie. "Snape was particularly nasty, at least when his wife was out of earshot."

Harry snorted. "When isn't he?" he asked, not really wanting an answer.

"So?" she pressed as he draped the tie around his neck. Why bother tying it?

Harry gave up and wandered over to drop down next to Hermione. "Voldemort," he said. "A nice little letter, just for me. One word. '_Soon'_." He felt Hermione stiffen next to him, and tried not to sigh. "We don't have much time," he said, staring forward.

Hermione was silent for a moment, and then said firmly. "Then we need DA meetings every night. I've got to get those spells into some kind of working order. And we need some kind of plan."

Harry blinked and looked at her. "Huh? Plan?" Frankly, he'd thought training everyone to defend themselves against murdering black-robbed maniacs was a plan.

Hermione shook her head, bushy hair curling madly around her head. "No, we need a plan for when they attack," she said, that line between her brows deepening. "Who's going to defend what part of the castle? Where will the little kids be? Who's going to take them there? Those kind of things."

Harry had to admit, he hadn't bothered to think that far. Heck, he was kind of stuck on the I-Have-To-Kill-The-Dark-Lord part. "You're right," he said, crossing his arms and leaning back. He gave her a truly affectionate grin. "What would we do without you, Hermione?"

Hermione blushed a little, but smiled back. "You'd all be failing classes, barely managing to survive your Quidditch injuries, and probably completely clueless as to where the library is," she said smugly. Harry chuckled.

"You're right," he agreed, and stood. He held out a hand to pull her up. "Dinner?" he asked.

"Don't forget your robe," she told him, poking him in the side, and then wrinkling her nose. "And for heavens sakes, use some kind of temporary cleaning charm. You stink."

"Who, me?" he teased, lifting one arm and shoving a rather stinky armpit in her face. She squealed and darted for the door. "Aww, what, afraid of a little sweat, Hermione?" he called, heading after her. After a discrete charm, of course.

"Jerk," she threw over her shoulder as she pulled to a stop at the top of the first staircase. Her eyes were twinkling at him, though, even as serious thoughts lurked beneath the humor. "Come on, Stinky," she said as he strolled up to join her. "We've got a meeting to call." She slipped her hand through his arm as they headed down the stairs, and as they walked, Harry spared a brief thought for the girl striding staunchly along next to him. She'd be there, he realized, perhaps truly realized for the first time. Hermione and Ron and Ginny and probably all the rest. They'd all be there, just because it was _right._ And that finally eased something tight inside him.

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Draco was in the middle of something far too pleasurable to be interrupted, when that damn Weasley girl popped up. "Cara, Draco," she called, the door to the room they were currently, ah, occupying flying open and her head appearing. Then she slapped a hand over her eyes. "Oh, Merlin, I didn't need to see that."

"Then stay on your side of the castle, Weasley," Draco growled, seriously annoyed and contemplating some rather satisfying retribution. And it would make things rather... uncomfortable for Potter, too. Heh heh heh.

Cara, unfortunately, knew him a tad too well. He was treated to a glare, a shirt thrust in his face, and a sudden loss of warm, soft girlfriend. "Sorry, Gin, what's wrong?" the love of his life asked as she tugged on her own clothes, rather hurriedly. Draco took his time. He wasn't rushing for anyone.

Weasleyette was still covering her eyes. "DA meeting," she said. "Tonight, and every night for now on."

Draco scowled deeper. "Why the bloody hell?" he demanded. Was Potter absolutely mad?

"Harry got a message," Ginny said, eyes still covered. "We don't have much time."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake drop the hand," Draco snapped, seriously irritated and more than a little shaken. He didn't want _that_ day to come. He wanted it, and all the complications that would come with it to disappear and his nice, comfortable time with Cara to simply go on forever.

Weasley gave a rather cautious peer through her fingers before letting her hand drop. "We've got to get everyone gathered tonight," she said, glancing briefly at him before focusing on Cara. "We need the DA, and then we need to start making a plan."

"Plan?" his so helpful girlfriend asked as she started toward the door, clothes still a bit askew but completely dressed, at least.

"Hermione's heading it," Ginny told her. "Who's going to be where, what we're doing with the little kids, who's taking them there. That kind of thing."

"It won't matter," Draco murmured. "If it all ends... none of it will matter."

Ginny gave him a rather stark glance. "Hence the meeting every night," she said. "Let's go, Malfoy," she said, and started out of the room. Cara was right on her heels, a worried look and lips tight as she glanced back at him. He gave her a curt nod, telling her he'd be coming and stayed where he was.

Once the girls were gone and the door had closed again, Draco let himself slump. Damn and bloody hell, he thought, shoving hands through his hair and resisting the urge to tug. It was all going to shit. And what were they doing, trying to defeat the Dark Lord by themselves? Sure, there was Potter's little thing from that rather drunken night in the Astronomy Tower... something about only one. He had his suspicions on that one.

He ran his hands through his hair again. And now he had to go beat thick-headed students into capable fighters. Every damn night from now on.

Draco shook his head, feeling the despair clench in his throat. How could it possibly be enough?

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Sonora sat and stared glumly at her cauldron. What was she missing? She was so close, so damned close. It had to be _something_, something that was frighteningly simple. A Potion of Intent was for one person. Somehow, there had to be a way to make it for many.

"Still, Sonora?" came that dark, velvety voice behind her.

She sighed. "There has to be a way," she muttered, and turned again to the piles of books and papers that littered her desk. There had to be a way.

Hands closed over her own. "Stop," said the voice gently. Her hands clenched under his. "I won't have you make yourself ill," Severus said over her head, voice just a tad bit dictatorial. "You haven't slept, you're not eating, and you're burying yourself in here."

And something inside her snapped. "People will _die_!" Sonora exploded. And surged out of her chair, her sudden rage giving that weak leg strength and sending her to the other side of the room. "People will die if I don't solve this! If I can't find an answer and soon, there will bodies littering the grounds of Hogwarts. And you'll be right there," she snarled, swinging around and stabbing a finger toward her rather startled yet angry looking spouse. "You'll be right there, with that great big target painted on your chest, and you'll get yourself bloody well KILLED."

"Sonora," he growled, starting toward her.

"Oh, no you don't," she shouted again, stomping off toward the other side of the room. "Don't you try to tell me 'we'll figure it out' or that you're not going to end up dead. Because I KNOW you," she cried, swinging back around, and feeling sudden tears flood her eyes. And dammit, that sudden strength in her leg drain away. She had to catch herself on a desk and blink back the tears.

"You'll go charging out there, take out a dozen Death Eaters, and then get yourself killed. Probably to save bloody Dumbledore or someone else you think is more important than yourself." There were tears on her cheeks now, and her chest was heaving. Her breath was ragged, it was hard to breath, the rage and misery so tight in her throat. "And dammit, Severus, I can't loose you! I won't loose you! I WON'T!"

She was nearly blinded with tears, choking on the words, and then there were hard arms around her and lips crushing her own and the world spun on its axis. When it settled back into place, she was held tightly against the one person who mattered more than all others together.

"I can make you no promises," he said, voice dark. She didn't have to look up to know that his face was bleak as well. "I never could."

She shuddered. "I know," she said, face muffled in the rough fabric of his robes. "I always knew. But dammit, I'm going to protect you if it's the last thing I do."

His chest moved under her cheek as he snorted. "I rather thought that was my job."

"Eat dirt," she muttered. "It's mine, too." And then something occurred to her. Something that made her want to dance and scream with frustration at the same time.

"What?" he demanded tersely, hands tightening as she made to pull away.

"It's something in common," she said, thinking furiously as she tipped her head back and met his eyes. "Something the drinkers will share, something that makes it intended for ALL of them."

His eyes were narrowed on hers. "What are you thinking?" he demanded.

She headed for her cauldron, limping rather badly, to her annoyance. She wanted speed, not grace. "All in common, something all in common..." she muttered. She was flipping, fumbling, thinking madly and wildly. "Dammit. Dammit!" She slammed the book down. "That's it!"

"What?!" Severus demanded harshly.

She stared at him triumphantly, wildly. "They all, every one of those fighting for the light, have in common," she said, and laid one hand over her heart. "Here."

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Harry gazed over the tired people in front of them. "Go to bed," he said tersely. "And don't forget tomorrow night."

There were mutters and rumblings from the crowd as they headed for the door. Harry turned away, not caring to hear. They said they'd follow him, they'd believe him. He certainly was testing their faith, he thought darkly. It would be interesting to see how many showed up tomorrow.

Malfoy appeared next to him, looking as cool as ever. There were faint shadows about his eyes, however, and an innate weariness in the line of his body, even as he stood tall and relaxed. "Do you really believe they can handle it, Potter?" he drawled.

"It's their only option," Harry said tightly.

"And we'll stick," came another voice. Harry looked over his shoulder to see Neville standing, hands shoved in his pockets and hair sweaty and plastered to his face. Neville was looking a bit grim, his normally friendly face serious and intent. "No one's confused about why we're doing this, Harry. We'll stand by you, because there's no other choice." Neville's eyes were locked on his. He knew, Harry realized.

"You ever wonder, Neville?" Harry said softly, staring at his dormmate's eyes. "Was it a total accident of birth?"

Neville slowly shook his head, eyes never leaving his. Neither paid any attention to anyone else around them. "No," Neville said quietly. "You were meant for this, Harry. I was meant for something else." He gave a little lopsided smile. "I dunno what, yet, but I guess I'll find out if we live through it all."

"Well this is lovely and all, but can we return to the subject at hand?" Malfoy's drawl cut through the intensity.

Harry held Neville's eyes a moment longer, trying to say without words. Somehow, the message got through. Neville tipped his head, then turned to face Malfoy. "You got something to say, Malfoy?" his usually quiet friend said.

Malfoy raised a cool eyebrow. "So the worm finally grows some teeth?" he drawled.

"Enough," Harry said impatiently. He turned to face them all. "Hermione. You have some ideas?"

The Head Girl cleared her throat, drawing herself tiredly up. "I'd say let's move to the common room, but I think there'd be too many ears," she said. "So you'd all better get comfortable." Draco rolled his eyes, but Harry gave a shrug. Transfiguration, right?

Several chairs and a table later, they were all missing a sock and Harry his tie. Hermione had spread several charts over the table. "We need a plan," she said, pointing to one chart. "This is the castle. We need to know where the weaknesses are, how many people need to watch or defend certain points." She gestured to another list. "We need to know how many first, second and third years we have, and where they can go."

"The third years can watch the rest," Ron spoke up, eyes intent on his new girlfriend, face serious. "By then, they've had enough in DADA to know how to ward a door and _stupedify_ whoever tries to come through it."

"We can have the fourth years review spells with the third years and younger," Ginny suggested.

Hermione gave a nod. "Good." She turned her eyes on Malfoy. "Draco. How many of your housemates are on our side?"

All eyes turned to the blonde Slytherin who was leaning negligently back against his chair. His eyes were cold. "Are you ready for a war within the walls?" he asked, voice still and soft. "Because that is what you will have. And believe me when I say that they have been training for this their whole lives. Not like the children you've got here." His face twisted just a bit. "Their fathers, their mothers have been training them since they could walk, just waiting for this moment." His voice was harsh in the silent room. "There will be war inside the walls."

It was Ron who finally broke the oppressive gloom. "How many would you trust, Malfoy?" he demanded. Every in the Head Boy, the strategist, the chess master. "How many do you trust, and can you get them out?"

Malfoy gave a small gesture, maybe his first physical sign of distress that they'd been allowed to see. "A few. Some of the younger ones. No one above fifth year."

All eyes turned to Harry, and he resisted the urge to wince. He hated this, hated it with a passion. "Then we have to get them out," he said, voice tight. "And seal the rest in."

Draco gave a slow nod. "I'll send them out the back door," he said. "And have them seal it behind them."

"Will they know how?" Hermione asked. "I mean, enough to keep the others in?"

Draco gave a harsh laugh. "You still don't get it, Granger. They know how. They know more than you'll ever want to know."

Ron cut him off with a gesture. "Enough," he said impatiently. "We get it, Malfoy. You get with the ones you trust."

"I can check," Harry said quietly. And all turns turned back to him. He started over at Malfoy. "I can tell you if they're truly dark or not."

Draco's face was horribly tense. "I hate this bloody war," he snarled. "Do it."

Harry gave him a terse nod, and looked deliberately to Hermione. "Go on," he ordered.

Hermione was looking miserable and had to take a deep breath. "So that's that. Now we need the rest."

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Ginny held tightly to Harry as they sat on the couch in the common room, staring into the fire. His arm was tight around her waist, the other hand absently stroking her hair. She could feel the tension that was coiled inside him.

Briefly she wondered how long they had, how long until Harry had to go face his damned destiny. How would it all play out? She knew he was scared. He was worried. He was afraid for them all, and afraid for himself.

She pressed closer, eyes falling on her brother and Hermione on the other couch, curled tightly against each other. They'd need each other, especially as the days ticked slowly off, she thought. The waiting. That was what was going to try them all.

Harry's hand was still moving absently over her hair, and Ginny finally turned against him. She pressed her lips to his neck and felt his pulse jump. "Come with me," she said in a whisper. She felt him nod, just a bit.

Ron glanced sharply at them as they got up off the couch and Ginny shot him a look. Her brother gave her a steady look in return, then nodded. Ginny felt a wave of affection for the tall redhead who'd been her best friend, her playmate and her staunchest defender her whole life. Now he was shoving aside his definitely protective instincts and recognizing that this was something two people who mattered to him needed.

She gripped Harry's hand tighter as she led him up the stairs to her dorm. Tonight was for them.

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**AN: Whew! I had to quit _sometime_, you know. Heh heh heh.**

**MusicMonkey88** – Whipped cream and strawberries might go quite well with what Ginny has in mind. Heh heh heh.

**Maddie** – You better sit down, dear. (eyeing cautiously) That could get nasty...

**Ferggirl99** – So you finally got off your butt and reviewed. And don't give me that 'I was in Vancouver' excuses. Bah. Excuses. And I will gallantly refrain and make no comment about your obtuseness.

**Winnie** – Darling, you have too much spare time. lol. Why don't I send you a few of my little tasks, and then I can write all the time. (big cheesy grin)

**Pandabear08** – (please excuse the snickers) Plutonium? Oh my...

**Jennifer Cole** – I do love all these new reviewers... I do understand, and I'm flattered. Here's hoping the war lives up to your expectations!

**Ariana15** – Frankly, I think Harry should start getting regular massages. It'd be great therapy for all the pent up anger. Lol.

**A Harry and Ginny Dreamer** – No, spare me! (cringing until I remember that I am the author) Never mind. And thanks, I greatly appreciate the compliment.

**Child-of-scorpio** – I do love those Weasley's. I think that's where my sister got it... Right, sis?

**PolkaDotty** – Yes, chocolate and I have a very, um, close relationship. And hence it kinda seeps into my writing. Ooh. Speaking of chocolate... (the author disappears in search of a craving...)

**Sibling Creature** – Hang in there, there's more H/G action coming. Eventually. Lol. We do have that pesky war to deal with.

**Barbelibou** – You know, I've been bugging my sister about the same thing and she STILL hasn't gotten off her butt. (poking sister) And I hear you about redheads. My first boyfriend was a redhead. And I've been fascinated ever since... even though I've got a tall blonde now. (sigh)

**Cherryblossom08** – (gasp) No! Suspense, you say? Lol.

**GoldenWing, the evil chambermaid, Sevvy's Girl, Lady of Masobolle, foxyginny, Silver Warrior, snitchseekerhp, M'embrassez lentement, Moonglaze, LOTRFREAK, mary-v, hplovah, lluvatar, volleypickle16, hawkeyessabre, Openspy, hpjsr ** - I LOVE all the new reviewers! (passing around the plate of cookies) Keep them coming, folks. That's what drags me away from grading and back to the computer.


	25. Bringing In

Chapter 24

Harry was on his way to breakfast, unexpectedly alone as Ron had surprisingly dragged his lazy ass downstairs early. Why, Harry wasn't sure. He strolled into the Great Hall, glancing around for his best friend and spotted bright red hair hunched over what looked like a rather large bowl of oatmeal and a stack of parchment.

Harry dropped down across from his friend. "Morning," he said, and reached for the oatmeal himself.

Ron gave him a unexpectedly clear look, considering his friend generally didn't force himself out of bed until the last possible minute. "You're awfully cheerful," Ron said, before stuffing another bite in his mouth.

Harry shrugged. "Just not thinking about it," he said, adding milk and sugar. Lots of sugar. Good thing Hermione wasn't up yet to lecture him about his teeth. "I have to think about it every damn minute of every damn day, so I'm taking breakfast to not care."

Ron nodded, and went back to his papers and half-empty bowl of cereal. Harry sat back and tried to not think. He just focused on the taste of the food in his mouth, the quiet sound of quill scratching over parchment and the soft murmur of the other early risers in the Great Hall. He let himself mentally drift. It was probably still pretty cold out, he thought, glancing up at the barely clouded ceiling. Probably a great day for a fly...

"Oi, mate," Ron's voice intruded. Harry blinked and looked across the table. Ron didn't look happy.

"What?" Harry asked. He pushed his mostly eaten bowl away as he did. He figured that look meant drifting-time was over.

Ron grimaced. "Sorry," he said, seeming to have a fair idea of what was going on in Harry's head. "But I've been working on this for a couple of hours, and you need to see."

Harry muttered sometime profane under his breath, that had Ron cracking a smile, and reached for the sheet the Head Boy held out. He scanned it quickly. There were notes jotted along the edges of what seemed to be a smaller version of Hermione's chart of the castle. Harry studied it silently.

Ron apparently didn't want to wait on Harry to figure out his chicken scratch. "It just won't work," he said. "Not with what we've got, not in the time frame we've got." He blew out a breath and shoved his own empty bowl away. "And frankly, let's face it, we need firepower. And that means the teachers getting involved."

Harry's mood darkened. "You know they're going to try to lock us up," he said, dropping the chart on the table. "It's what they always do."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, but that was before they found out you have to save the bloody world," he said. He grimaced at Harry's look. "Look, mate, you're going to have to tell them. You know it, I know it, and unfortunately for you, Hermione knows it. And if you don't do it, you better believe she will." Harry muttered something else profane and Ron grinned faintly. "She's right up with Ginny, that one. Bound and determined to save you despite yourself."

Harry gave a glare, then scowled down at the table. "I'm just bloody well sick of being told I have that..."

Ron cut him off by rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, Potter, been there, done it with you." Harry lost the scowl. Ron was right.

He blew out a breath. "Fine," he muttered. "But you're coming with me."

Ron's eyes got big. "What? Wait, no way, this is you in charge, I don't think I need to..."

Now Harry got to grin. "Hah. You're the man with the plan, Head Boy. You're bringing your official ass up to Dumbledore's office with me to tell the man what we need."

"The Headmaster, who just happens to be one of the most powerful wizards alive, _could_ have some ideas to help, you know," came Hermione's voice, tartly. Both boys cringed and turned to face two rather annoyed-looking girls. Uh-oh.

"Morning," Ron tried.

"Don't you, 'morning' me, Ronald Weasley," Hermione fired at him. "What on earth do you two think you are doing, planning on setting everything without us?"

"We would have waited for you," Harry suggested, albeit a little weakly. So he still wanted to protect the two girls who mattered most. So shoot him.

Apparently Ginny was considering doing just that, considering the glare he was being treated to. "Sure you would have, Potter," she said snidely. "Right about the time you would have started spouting poetry at me."

Harry flushed, but wisely shut his mouth. This was one of those can't-win-against-bloody-girls things. Noses in the air, the two gracefully seated themselves next to Harry and Ron and proceeded to daintily consume a moderate breakfast, shooting the boys rather frightening looks if they so much as twitched in the direction of getting up.

Finally Hermione wiped her lips. "Right then," she said decisively. "Hand it over, Ronald." The six-foot something Head Boy meekly handed his notes over to his girlfriend and watched as she pursed her lips and read. "Well," Hermione said thoughtfully. "You've been very thorough." She passed them to Ginny.

"The only thing I would add," Hermione continued, "is that we should have all of us go to Dumbledore. Present this plan as logically and intelligently as possible."

"What do you mean, all?" Harry demanded. He wasn't really happy about the whole thing anyway, and he had a bad feeling he knew where this was going.

"Us, Draco, Neville," Ginny said, setting down the plan. "You know, the people who were putting that whole plan together last night."

Ron grimaced and Harry agreed silently. Freakin' damn Malfoy. THAT was a reason for this war to be over, so they could all go back to never being around each other. "Fine," he grumbled. "But you get Malfoy, I'm not doing it. I've been too bloody nice already."

"Boys," Ginny sighed as she got up. "I'll do it, I've already seen far more of the boy than anyone else here." Harry gaped and Ron's jaw hit the floor as she headed toward the Slytherin table, where Cara was sitting with her boyfriend.

"What?" Ron said, starting to look a little purple.

Hermione grinned, rather evilly. Harry was still too flummoxed to really notice. "Now, now, Ron, don't go jumping to conclusions," she said sweetly. "She just walked in on Cara and Draco in a rather compromising position, that's all." Hermione examined her nails. "She DID say that she understood why Cara was so into the guy, however..."

Ron was more than a little purple now, and Harry had managed to scrape his mind back into some kind of order again. "Right," he said hastily. "Let's... um, let's get Neville and go, ok? Before we're expected to be at any classes."

Ron glared in the direction of the blonde boy before shoving himself to his feet. Hermione reached over and patted his chest. "Don't worry, Ronny," she said with a consoling smirk. "You're just as cute."

Ron grinned, and tossed a smug look at Harry. "Ha. I'M cute, Potter," he said, trying to make a joke.

Harry plastered a smile to his own face, trying to match the forced lightness. "You keep telling yourself that, Weasley." His own eyes went to Ginny, who was walking back with a scowling Malfoy in tow. Cara was glaring as well as she trailed them all.

"Let's get this over with," Malfoy snapped as he reached the three of them. "I have more interesting things to do than sit around with far too many Gryffindors."

"Ahem!" Cara snarled.

Malfoy swung around on her. "We discussed this," he hissed.

She fisted her hands on her hips and got right back in his face. "No, YOU discussed it and I ignored you." She looked over the taller boy's shoulder at Harry. "I'm in this, too, Harry. Don't even think of trying to leave me out."

Harry studied her, and despite himself caught a wisp of thought trailing from the fuming girl. "Fair enough," he said. He held up a hand. "Save it, Malfoy," he said. "Let's pick up Neville and get this over with. I'm not looking forward to it, either."

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Draco glared at the back of Potter's head as the whole mass of Gryffindors stomped ahead of him. Bloody damn heroic attention seeking idiots...

"What's _his_ fucking problem?" he muttered under his breath.

Apparently Worm-Boy, otherwise known as Longbottom heard him. More was the shame, because the twit slowed to say something, inane, no doubt. "You know what it's like to be trying to tell the truth for six years, and have everyone in the world refuse to listen?"

"He's Harry Damn Potter," Malfoy found him snapping back. "Don't try and tell me that his life is so damn bad."

Longbottom stopped dead and swung around to glare at him. "You know what, Malfoy? You're a pain in the ass. And worse, you're a STUPID pain in the ass."

Draco's face iced and he stepped close, very close to the other boy. "Would you care to say that again, Longbottom?" he said softly.

Somewhat to his surprise, Worm-Boy stared right back. "You don't get it, do you? It isn't about you, it isn't about Harry. It's about right. It's about standing up for the people who can't do it for themselves. It's about," he said just as softly as Draco had a moment before, his eyes just as hard, "it's about getting over your fucking self and realizing that no one cares about you, that you're a cog in a great big wheel." Longbottom stepped back. "Besides," the other boy flung out as he headed after the others, "if you really knew what Harry had to do, you'd shut your fucking mouth and move your feet."

Draco stared for a second, then glared harder and strode after them all. Bloody damn Gryffindors.

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Ginny was kind of regretting teasing Harry earlier with her comment about Draco. He'd been so grim faced since... Of course, she knew that was because he was about to have to _talk_ to all sorts of people, including ones that had tried to lock him out of the whole thing before.

It was something, she supposed as they waited for the gargoyle guarding the door to Dumbledore's office to move, that Harry and the Headmaster seemed to have made some kind of peace. She still didn't know the whole story behind the last year and a half of coldness, but there had been a definite thaw recently. That should make things a little easier, shouldn't it?

The stairs appeared, and Harry led the way up the stairs. They were all quiet as they trooped up the steps. Cara was right on her heels, still fuming at Draco. Her friend had been more than a little pissed last night when she'd realized her boyfriend had tricked her into missing the meeting. Cara had been staunchly on their side from the beginning, and more than deserved to be in on the planning.

Ginny wasn't particularly surprised that Dumbledore was waiting at the top of the stairs. "Mr. Potter," he said quietly. "Come in, all of you. I suspect I know why you are here."

"Lucky us," she heard Harry mutter as they all trooped in. Ginny bit back a groan as she saw Professors McGonagall and Snape-the-Bat seated on one side of the room. This was going to be a long morning.

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Harry was back in the Room of Requirement, blasting the shit out of another dummy when the door opened.

"Potter," that annoyingly icy voice drawled behind him. "I believe you owe me a duel."

It had been a rough morning. He'd had to deal with Snape's snorts and glares and McGonagall's protests about students being involved, and Dumbledore's supposedly all-knowing looks and hardly understandable words of wisdom. Honestly, the Headmaster was supposed to be one of the most powerful wizards out there. He had his own bloody Chocolate Frog Card. So why couldn't he speak in plain English?

At any rate, it was perhaps all those irritations combining with the stress that had been sinking in on him the last two years that let Harry give in to the darkly vindictive streak that surged forward.

"All right, Malfoy," he said, not bothering to turn. "_Incendio_!" And off they went, the two of them. Curses and hexes and all sorts of nasty charms. Malfoy was good, Harry realized. Sneaky and nasty, and darned if he didn't know quite a few curses that were probably illegal.

Harry ducked as a bolt of violent yellow sizzled past his ear. Of course, he hadn't lost the wand yet...

A half hour later, the room was in shambles. Chunks of wall were missing, the mat had long since vaporized. They were sweaty, burnt, limping, and Draco was beaten. He knew it, and was clearly not happy. Breathing heavily, Harry lifted one hand and pointed it toward Draco, who was swaying, wandless, on one foot. "_Imoblilis_," he whispered.

He let Draco fall to the rather hard floor and just looked for a minute before wearily seating himself on the floor next to him. "Satisfied?" he said aloud. "You're now the..." he counted silently. "The fifth person who knows just how far I can go. Actually, you probably got more of a display than I usually give." He shrugged and managed a weak smile. This was kind of interesting, talking to someone who couldn't talk back. "You should feel special."

He was quite a moment, thinking. "Do you remember that night in the Astronomy Tower, Malfoy?" he said softly. "We both got completely pissed off our asses because our girls had gotten hurt." He gave a sardonic smile. "I wonder if there'll be enough firewhisky to get us through what's coming. It's going to be ugly," he said, more to himself. "Merlin, all the people who are going to die... I hate it. I hate it so much. And fuck it, I hate knowing it's all because of some fucking prophesy."

He glanced at the rigid form of the other boy and sighed. "Fine," he said, and flicked his fingers. Draco sat up slowly, and Harry at least got a bit of satisfaction out of the fact he'd managed to get the better of the other boy. After all, Draco had nearly been a Death Eater, and was a fairly powerful wizard.

"You bitch more than anyone I've ever heard," was the first thing out of the blonde boy's mouth. "And who cares about a fucking prophesy. No one said you had to go looking to fill it."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I guess you were too busy being an evil git," he said mockingly. "Remember the brunette you happen to be dating? Need a better reason?"

"Fuck," Malfoy muttered. "Fucking stupid girls and love and bloody good people. Life's much simpler as a dark wizard."

Harry shrugged, just lifting one shoulder and dropping it. "You keep telling yourself that," he said. Slowly he heaved himself to his feet and held out his hand. "Now let's get out of here, get some dinner, so we can come back and kick the shit out of everyone else tonight."

Draco eyed him a long moment, then sighed and accepted the hand up. "I can't wait until I can go back to just hating you," he grumbled.

"Me too," Harry snorted, and they headed out the door.

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AN: I won't tell you how much procrastinating went into writing this chapter. You can just pat me on the back and tell me how much you love me. Lol.

**Fuzzball** – Um, oops?

**Quirkygrl** – Bwahahahaha... my evil plot to eliminate any opposition to world domination has begun... I mean, um, glad you liked my little tales. And can I get that chocolate ON a Weasley boy?

**PolkaDotty** – Yeah, yeah, you're not the only one who pointed that out. Humph. At least I remembered what the spell was supposed to do. I mean, that's somewhat impressive for me. (cheesy grin)

**Mary-v** – What, people die in a war? I never would have guessed...

**Shahrezad1** – Mischief? Me?

**Barbelibou** – Harry might trust Malfoy, but he sure doesn't like him... He found just a LEETLE too much pleasure in kicking Draco's butt. Heh heh.

**Plateado** – I'm rather fond of Hermione myself... Of course, my sister will tell you that I feel just a tiny bit of sympathy to anyone labeled a 'brain'... Hence my interpretation of her.

**Psychopunk, social-flutterby, royal-pain** – Dudes, you need some chocolate. (passing over the Hershey's)

**Ferggirl99** – Humph. Happy now? And that's an interesting idea for the final battle... not really what I had in mind, but interesting none the less... maybe YOU could write something... (hint, hint)

**Maddie** – Glad to see your blood pressure's back to normal. Lol.

**Ariana15** – I'd like a little massage myself... (drifting off into various fantasies)

**Lady of Masbolle, hawkeyessabre, volleypickle16, Sibling Creature, jwhit-moony, cherryblossom08, HP Geek, lluvatar, snitchseekerhp, hplovah, Lozzie, Treck, Willow Ann Rover, Jennifer Cole, divagoddess1, LOTRFREAK, Scarlett1177, sugarbaby, Moonglaze, arios, Silver Warior, Rebecca, mysticruby, WorldConqueror** – Yay new reviewers!! I love you even more than the old ones. Well, ok, not really. I love you equally well. Homemade donuts for you all!


	26. Eventide

Chapter 25

It was a long week. A very long week. Each day it felt like Harry was waking up a little farther underwater, a little farther from the shore. Each day he spent either in the Room of Requirement or in his DADA class; each night he drove the DA members harder and harder.

And tonight, he looked over the panting, exhausted and bleeding students and just felt weary. With a wave of his wand, he sent some sparks up in the air and brought people to a halt. Harry waited a moment until he had everyone's attention, then spoke. "Everyone, quit early tonight. You need sleep, and you need to get healed up. I'll see you tomorrow night."

There was a ragged cheer from one corner, where some fifth-year Ravenclaws were bent over, chests heaving. Hah. Guess they were a little on the tired side, Harry thought. People began to chatter and murmur as they headed for the door, and Harry turned away. He wasn't up to talking with the twenty different students who would be sure to have some question or another. Instead he leaned against the window frame and stared out at the dark grounds. There were no stars tonight, he thought. The moon was a dark sliver hanging in the sky. Remus would be counting down the days soon.

There was a light touch on his arm, and Harry looked over his shoulder to see Hermione standing there. "Are you ok?" she asked, looking concerned.

Harry thought for a moment about telling her of the foreboding feeling he couldn't escape from, even when he slept. Then he looked down and saw the dark shadows under his friend's eyes, and the small cut on her cheek. He gave a strained smile. "Yeah," he said, trying to be convincing. "Go to bed, Hermione. No homework tonight."

He looked over her head and raised an eyebrow at Ron. His best mate gave a short nod, shoving his hands in his pockets. Ron'd take care of her, probably in a way Harry didn't want to think about.

"Come on, 'Mione," Ron said, holding out his hand. "Let's go." The Head Boy's voice was weary as well, and the two walked slowly out of the room.

Harry watched the door swing shut, and when it all was quiet and still, he finally let himself slump. He dropped down to sit on the window seat, rubbing his temples tiredly. He couldn't shake the low-grade headache that had been dogging him the last two days. That and the dreams... he hadn't slept properly for a week.

There was a sound from the other side of the room and Harry's head whipped up, eyes narrowing. "_Lumos_," he hissed, and the room brightened enough to see a familiar red head leaning back against the wall. He sighed. "Gin," he said. "Go to bed."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You're getting too far into that teacher mode, aren't you, Harry?" Those lovely lips of hers twisted in a smirk as she heaved herself up from her spot on the floor. "Seems to me you need taking down a notch."

Something hot stirred deep inside Harry. He leaned back, planting his hands on the seat behind him. "Oh?" he asked, raising one eyebrow. His heart was starting to beat a little faster, and he was beginning to forget his headache.

She was stalking him now, hips moving and that little smirk on her face. "Yes, 'oh'," she murmured. She was close to him now, very close. He could see the sheen of sweat on her skin, smell the faint fragrance that lingered from her shampoo. Ginny casually lifted a leg and seated herself on his lap, straddling his legs. She leaned forward, planting her hands next to his.

"How about another 'oh'?" she said softly, and then she kissed him. Harry had a brief second of sanity, just enough to think that this girlfriend thing was really a pretty damn good deal, before the only thing he could think of that hot mouth moving against his. He resisted the urge to lift a hand and tangle it in his girl's hair. Ginny was in charge, and damned if he didn't like it.

She kissed him, and kissed him some more. Wet, deep kisses that had tongues and teeth tangling. Then she lifted her hands and gave a wicked grin. "Hi," she said and then yanked. The two of them went tumbling to the floor and Harry found himself laughing as they rolled over. Of course, the laughter stopped pretty quickly as her mouth latched onto his again, and as her hands started to slide around buttons and fasteners. He kissed her hungrily, wanting more and more. His own fingers hunted out the buttons on her pants, her shirt, slipping inside to stroke skin. He felt like his skin was on fire, that there was a urgency that couldn't wait.

Ginny was breathing hard as she wrenched her head away and reared up over him. "Hi," she said again and then dived back down. Harry found his hand tangled in his shirt, and ripped it in his impatience. Ginny was everywhere, her mouth, her hands... Harry gave a strangled gasp as her teeth nipped unexpectedly. Merlin, she was going to kill him and he wasn't going to mind a bit.

He fumbled a bit, trying to get her out of her clothing, until she pulled back and helped. And then there was soft, warm female flesh in his hands, and he really did loose it. Mouths and hands and bodies moved and twisted and they both gasped, and then the world spun and blurred until it was just the two of them in their own little passionate place.

Later, he didn't know how much later, Harry drifted back down to earth. If he'd been tired before, he was _really_ tired now. But this time it wasn't that soul-deep weariness. This felt more like the kind where he just slept and savored.

"Don't leave," Ginny mumbled into his chest, her hair spilling over his arm. Harry thought about stroking it away from her face, but didn't have the energy.

"I don't think I can move," he whispered back, closing his eyes. Drawing up all his energy, he peered toward the window seat and summoned a cushion. Somewhat to his surprise, a blanket came with it. Apparently the Room was already compensating for the change in needs. He barely managed to get the blanket spread over their two tired bodies before sinking back down. Tomorrow was coming too soon. He'd get them up, but right now he was just so comfortable and Ginny felt so good cuddled against him...

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Ron was the one who woke them, damn it all. Ginny had been warm and comfortable and sleeping better than she'd done the whole last stupid week when Big Brother decided to make an appearance.

"Dammit, Potter," she heard in a pissed-off growl and cracked an eyelid.

"Fuck off, Ronnie," she mumbled, not lifting her head. She wasn't loosing her spot.

She felt Harry's chest lift in a sigh. "Go away, Ron," the love of her life said above her head. "Or I'll ask where Hermione was last night."

There was silence, then a low muttering and the sound of footsteps stalking away and the door closing. "I'm going back to sleep," Ginny sleepily informed her pillow.

Arms hugged her closer. "Ok," Harry's voice said. And she yawned and did exactly that.

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Cara watched Harry carefully at breakfast. He'd been looking pretty tight yesterday, she thought, and then to send them all to bed early? Not that she'd minded, she'd been beat and it'd let her cuddle with Draco for a while.

Judging from Ginny's relaxed state, she smirked silently, Harry'd gotten some 'cuddling' himself.

Cara was just reaching for the butter when Harry gave a hiss of pain and clutched at his forehead.

"Harry, what is it?" Hermione asked, alarmed.

Harry was gritting his teeth as he answered. "Get everyone in place. Now. We're out of time." They all sat and stared at him, eyes wide. Cara didn't know what to think. Now? Was he saying that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was here? _Now_?

"Go!" Harry snapped, bringing his hand away from his face, eyes tight and drawn. He shoved away from the table and headed for the teacher's table.

Ron shoved to his own feet and shouted to get everyone's attention. "Oi, shut up!" It did get quieter as people turned to stare at him. "Right, then, this is it. DA members, you know what to do."

"First through third years, to your common rooms!" Hermione called. She was pale, very pale. And Ginny... a hand slid into her own and squeezed. Cara looked sideways at her white-faced friend. None of them were really ready for this. And Draco...

With a feeling of panic, Cara realized that Draco wasn't there. Where was he? Did he know? How was she supposed to keep him safe if he wasn't there...

"Draco just went out the door," Ginny's voice said low in her ear as students started to babble and slowly follow instructions, DA members moving them along as quickly as possible. "He's got his part to do, you know."

Cara swallowed hard and nodded sharply. "So do we," she said. Draco would find her. He'd be all right, all he had to do was separate out the Slytherins they could trust... She swallowed again and squeezed back. "Let's go."

She looked over her shoulder and saw Harry leaning over the table, speaking rapidly to a huddle of teachers. Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had started getting everyone moving along faster, and... her eyes darted about. There were noticeably few Slytherins around.

Cara took a deep breath and dropping Ginny's hand, headed for the exit of the Great Hall. It was time, this was it. Her hand dropped to her pocket and she took out her wand. She just hoped they all made it out alive.

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AN: Yes, yes, I'm terrible. But I do have good excuses that I won't bore you with... job issues and junior high musicals and second-graders that are penguins... And I did give you a Harry/Ginny scene! Anywhoo...

**I'm too bloody tired to do individual reviews. Just know that I read each and every one, I love all of you, and that's the only reason I dragged myself over to the computer tonight instead of to bed. : - ) **


	27. Cry Havoc

Chapter 26

Sonora was in the dungeons when she heard it. She'd lingered back behind Severus that morning, telling him she'd be upstairs in a few and not to wait for her, you big idiot. After all, the amount of loving 'activity' that had gone on the previous night, it was no surprise she was a bit, ah, behind this morning.

And so she'd been sitting on the bed, finishing the last of the complicated hair charms she wore to keep that long mass tied up securely when she heard it. A long, shrill shriek that echoed around the stone walls. Sonora instinctively ducked, not knowing why. Something about that sound… it was familiar and terrifying…

And then the castle shook. It shook. Sonora gave a shriek of her own and grabbed hastily for her cane and started hobbling out of the room as fast as possible. Merlin, this was it, wasn't it? she thought frantically. Severus, where was Severus? She had to find him, had to protect him from all those Death Eaters who would want his head…

Some part of her rational brain caught up with her another moment later, and she turned quickly and awkwardly, stumbling a bit. The potions. She needed the potions. A flick of her wand and she was off again, the crate of vials following her as she hobbled down the long stone hallways. She could hear the sounds of voices above her as she grabbed the banister and forced herself as quickly as possible up the stairs. Scared, nervous voices, all at a controlled murmur.

She was breathing hard when she finally got to the Great Hall. Sure enough, she found a crowd. The headmaster was speaking to staff, and there was a mass of students, all older students, gathered around the Gryffindor table.

"Attention," a magnified voice rang out. "Listen up, people, this is it." Sonora was still feeling weak as she peered and finally spotted the young Mr. Potter as he climbed up on the table top. "Right, here's the assignments."

A flick of his wand sent some kind of plan spinning into the air and Sonora thought she caught Dumbledore waving his hand at it as well. The plan shimmered and then expanded until Sonora could read clearly from where she was.

"Seventh years, here, here and here," Mr. Potter was saying, pointing. "You're grouped by houses, go with your house colors. Sixth years, here. Fifth and fourth years, all houses, up on the towers. You're shooting from the top down. And don't argue, that's where we need you, not because I'm putting anyone down. The younger kids are taken care of already. Teachers," he swiveled toward the teachers standing around Dumbledore, "We need you out front with the seventh and sixth years. If you're standing here," he swung back to the students, "It's because you're trusted. Take a good look. We have the students who we think are on Voldemort's side contained," there was a collective shudder at the name, "but there's no guarantee that they won't get out. Watch your backs, people."

Sonora forced her vocal chords to work. This was what she'd come for, after all. "Harry!" she called, raising her voices as much as possible. The boy must have the ears of a cat, she thought as he swung toward her.

"Professor?" he said, looking a bit impatient.

She sent the crate toward him and the table. "This is for the students here. A protection from the _crucio_, however temporary." Mr. Potter's face lightened a bit as he glanced down. "A swallow each should do," she called. "Get it passed out and quickly."

"Right then, pass it around, people, don't take more than a swallow," Harry was saying as vials started spinning out of the crate. Sonora was distracted, however, as she scanned the teachers, looking for Severus. Where was he?

She saw Dumbledore, McGonagall, Sprout… she even saw Hagrid. But nowhere did she see the dark head of her man. She was feeling that faintness still from her run/stumble up the stairs, and her leg was aching. And now her heart was pounding more as she began to fear for her husband's safety.

"Once you've gotten your dose, get to your place," came Harry's voice again, sounding a bit tinny in her ears. "We don't have a lot of time, people, move, move…"

Sonora sank back against the wall, her heart beating quickly, and hand finding its way to clutch the pendant she wore about her neck. It was her little piece of Severus… surely he would find his way to her and be ok…

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Ginny had gotten her swallow of the sickly sweet potion and was clutching her wand nervously as she and the other sixth years made their way toward the front doors. Their task was to protect the entrance. The seventh years and teaches were to spread out to their assigned positions on the grounds and try to pin the Death Eaters down. As far as Hermione had been able to figure, the only weak point in Hogwarts defenses was the entrance gates. The walls about the castle, she'd explained, were made of more than stone. There were some kind of ancient guarding charm on them that it was thought went all the way back to Merlin. But the gate was something the Founders had put together, and that meant it was possible Voldemort could break it.

And so they were all hoping to funnel the Death Eaters in toward the castle and surround them. Ginny shuddered as they neared the entrance. She wondered if the teachers had managed to get word to the aurors; surely that amount of magic they'd felt only minutes before would have alerted the people in Hogsmead? The Ministry? Someone?

Cara was striding along in front of the sixth years, looking pale but very determined. They hadn't seen hide or hair of Draco, or Snape, for that matter, since Harry'd made his announcement. A blast of cold air came rushing in as Cara and some Ravenclaw boy pushed the doors open wide, and Ginny had to blink the sudden sting in her eyes away. She heard gasps around her and squinted off in the distance.

She saw the smoke rising beyond the trees, in the direction of Hogsmead, and her heart fell. All the people who lived there… that probably meant the aurors were there, and if Voldemort had already moved on to take on Hogwarts, it probably meant there wouldn't be much help left from that quarter. She swallowed. It was up to them.

"Right, let's spread out, don't double layer, folks, you don't want to catch any of your own side's fire in the back by accident," Cara was yelling as she gestured to the rest of them. Ginny followed almost blindly, her mind already darting to a more important thought. Where was Harry?

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Harry's heart was pounding so hard, he was afraid someone would hear it. Ron and Hermione weren't back yet from making sure all the common rooms were secured; they were supposed to join him in his position near the front gates. They'd insisted on being right beside him, despite everything he'd tried to say. Nothing had swayed their minds.

Neville and Seamus were crouched opposite him, a good hundred yards away. Harry could sense them rather than see them. Last he'd seen of Neville, the other boy had been sickly pale and shaking just a bit. He hoped Neville managed to find all that courage he'd been showing the past week or so. The habits of a lifetime were hard to break.

Draco was supposed to be with the two Gryffindors, but there'd been no sign yet. For the hundredth time in the last few minutes, Harry worried that there _was_ war within Hogwarts walls, and that Draco was caught in it. Hell, he was worrying about the Slytherin prat's safety? This war WAS screwed up.

His mind went to Ginny. He knew where she was supposed to be, and had no doubt that she was waiting, wand in hand for whatever was coming. Stay safe, he thought silently.

It was all he had time for, because then there was a wave of power that swept over him, knocking him backward on his rear end and sending an explosion of pain through his head. The gate exploded inward and the air was filled with dust and rubble. A piece slammed into the side of Harry's head, grazing his skull. The blow seemed to knock the pain inside away, at least. Harry could think past the bleeding wound, and forced himself to his feet.

As he did, black robbed figures began to appear from the cloud of dust. Shit, Harry thought, and raised his wand.

"_Stupify_!" he shouted, and the battle was on.

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Draco was herding the last four young Slytherins out of the 'back door' when Snape appeared.

"Professor?" Draco started, before he was interrupted.

"Move, quickly," Snape hissed in a soft voice at the children. The frightened first years scampered rapidly in the direction he pointed. "We have a proble…" Snape began in a low voice before there was a bolt of sizzling yellow light and he whirled and ducked. Draco instinctively followed suit, slamming the door behind him shut and muttering the strongest locking spell he knew.

"_Protego_," Snape hissed as a shield was thrown up between the two of them and whoever was firing curses.

There was a shrill laugh. "You damned traitors! You think we wouldn't know what was going on?" Draco recognized the voice. Pansy. That damned little bitch, she'd been just waiting to corner him, hadn't she? She'd never forgiven his defection from the Dark Side, and therefore her loss of his influence and control back in fifth year. He'd thought she'd been content to lay misery on his shoulders while under probation and then pretend he no longer existed. Apparently he'd been wrong.

He peered around Snape's dark, crouched form. The Potion Master was muttering spells under his breath as he held the shield steady. Draco saw Pansy, robbed in black, and a wave of fellow students behind her.

"We can't hold them all off with a shield," Draco said softly to the man next to him.

"I know," Snape said grimly. "Are you ready?"

Draco tightened his grip on his wand, muscles coiled tight in anticipation. "Ready," he said. And Snape dropped the shield.

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AN: Horrible! I'm horrible!! (evil laughter) But I DID make sure you got a new chapter before Thanksgiving.

**AND I'm doing individual reviews…**

**Wyadra** – I've always thought that dear old Tom has quite an ego. After all, he decided to give himself a title, didn't he? Resurrected himself from nearly dead? Wants to take over the world? Lol. At any rate, Voldemort seems to me to be the kind of person who believes no one can stand in his way, and wants the rest of the world to believe that as well. Hence my interpretation of his attack on Hogsmead and Hogwarts.

**Treck** – Ack! No shooting allowed.

**MrsSakuraPotter** – Yes. I AM trying to give you a heart attack. Did I succeed this time around? Lol.

**Blucandy** – Strangly, I'm intimidated… (giving worried glance)

**Moonglaze** – Bwahahahaha…

**Social-flutterby** – Why no explicit sex? It depends on the mood I'm in when I'm writing, and the mood of the scene I'm writing. That particular encounter between Harry and Ginny was as much about emotional support as it was about sex, and so to my mind the kiss was more important. Not that I don't like a good lusty bout of you-know-what… (evil chuckle)

**Nymp23** – Thank you! That's quite a statement, I'll endeavor to keep up to your standards.

**Ariana15** – Ok, now make with the massage! (wiggling fingers demandingly)

**Lirael Goldenhand **– Yes, well, my K-2 kids are doing a little show called _How the Penguins Saved Christmas_. I've been living with wannabe penguins since October, and we're FINALLY approaching showtime. Anywhoo…

**Firenze** – You busy little bee, you… you must have too much spare time.

**Ferggirl99 **– Don't worry, your Ronniekins (rolling eyes) gets plenty of credit. But right now he's off trying to make sure the little kids don't get creamed and still get back to save Harry's butt (or so he thinks). Now get off YOUR butt and review, damn you.

**quirkygrl** – Can I have Bill Weasley, with dark chocolate, to go? And yes, I'll take a extra side of strawberries…

**Juliet's rose, volleypickle16, Sibling Creature, MusicMonkey88, final fantasy freak 199, mary-v, sugarbaby, Lady of Masbolle, Jennifer Cole, Silver Warrior, Hermey, Shahrezad1, ll4ever, RealityIntrovert, hplover, Maddie, LOTRFREAK77, highbrass, GoldenWing, PlatyPunk, alfvos, foxyginny, Scarlett71177, obsessed87, Barbelibou, Athena88, mysticruby, arios, James And Lily4eva** – I love all my reviewers!! And this little teaser is meant to make you suffer over the holidays. I'll warn you, because of said penguins (see response to Lirael Goldenhand…) I might be a _tad_ busy the next two weeks. I'll make every effort to alleviate your white-knuckle suspense, however… heh heh heh…


	28. Silent Screams

Chapter 27

Severus dropped the shield and all hell broke loose. Here he was, shooting curses at his own students, his own house. At children he'd tried for so long to slyly lure away from the Dark. He ducked a wicked sizzling bolt of orange and sent two rapid _stupefy_'s back. At least he spells weren't missing.

His students might not be children any more, he thought grimly, firing again and taking down Millicent Bulstrode with a well-placed stunner, but they were not yet adults. Not yet full-fledged Death Eaters, and not yet able to do the damage their parents might.

Next to him, Draco was doing a commendable job of guarding his back and firing off rather nasty hexes of his own. Cutting curses and total paralysis hexes seemed to Draco's favorites at the moment. It was still only two against nearly twenty, however, Severus thought harshly, and that meant far too many to try and remove without getting killed. Parkinson, in particular, had blood lust in her eyes.

And then he heard a hiss of pain next to him and knew that Draco had gotten hit with something, and the odds got worse. Damn it all, he'd promised Sonora… Severus' lips thinned and he flung a particularly strong Nerve Ending Hex, hoping it would take out enough of them. It didn't.

Parkinson was closing in, a dozen black-clad sixth and seventh years behind her, and Draco was dragging a bit next to him. Oh, the blonde boy was still rigidly upright, but he seemed to have lost the use of his left arm.

"_Expellariamus_!" came twin shouts from the other side of the hall, and it caught Severus by surprise. It also took the Slytherins by surprise, as a half-dozen wands flew away to the far corridor. "_Stupefy, petrificus totalis, stupefy, stupefy_!" The odds seemed to be evening a tad as black-robbed students began to stumble and drop. Next to him Draco was still steadily casting nasty curses and hexes.

"Come out and get what you deserve, mudblood!" came Pansy's shrill shout. Granger, Severus realized. Dammit all, they were supposed to be out front with Potter, he thought, positive that the infernal Weasley was at her side.

"For the last bloody time, DON'T CALL HER THAT!" came a roar, proving him right. At least Weasley followed that statement with a half-dozen good hexes, taking down another three students. They were down to three black-robed figures, and Pansy, who was surprisingly sneaky and strong with her curses. Severus had difficulty dodging them.

There was a quick succession of _stupefy_'s, and then finally it was just Pansy, standing wandless. She glared not at Severus, but at Draco. "Traitor," she hissed. "Traitor for that bitch Gryffindor, a muggle-loving whore who'd as soon fuck one as not…" And then she dropped like a stone, blood welling from a cut over her forehead.

"_Expellariamus_," snapped Granger's voice, the Head Girl finally coming into view. He was getting too old for this, Severus thought wearily, looking at the limp bodies cluttering the hallway. "Ron, get them tied up, we've got to get out front." Weasley was already doing that; for some reason Severus just stood back and watched. The girl rounded on himself and Draco. "Are you ok, Malfoy? Let me see that arm," she ordered. Severus' eyebrow lifted as Malfoy obeyed with nary a sneer. A few flicks and muttered charms and Draco was flexing his left hand once more. "Done, Ron?" Granger asked, swinging around once more.

"Nearly," Weasley called.

"Right, Professor, here's the wands," a large bundle of them was thrust into his hands. "Come on, Ron, we've got to get out front!"

At that moment there was a distant 'boom', and the faint shaking of the castle around them. "Harry!" Granger gasped, and then she and Weasley were tearing off in the direction of the front door, Draco hot on their heels.

Severus watched them go, feeling very old and worn. In so many ways, he thought for the first time, looking down at the wands in his hand and then the bound forms lying neatly before him, this was no longer his war. It had moved on, taken another generation. He'd never truly appreciated it before, he'd always been too deeply immersed in the Dark himself.

Bending, Severus set the stack of wands on the ground and pointed his own. "_Implodius_," he murmured and watched as the fire began to blaze, bright green and lavender as woods and cores burned. The smoke stung at his eyes as he then cast the strongest containment shield he could about the bound bodies centered in the hallway, and he set off for the front doors himself.

It might not be his war any longer, but he still had his part to play, and his heart to protect.

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The explosion at the gate had all of them jerking tensely in surprise, fingers tightening painfully about their wands. Cara stood next to Ginny and wished like hell that Draco was there. Bloody boy, she wanted to weep. Had to go and save his bloody classmates and be a bloody hero. She'd never forgive him if he ended up dead.

Dust and debris was billowing about where the gate should be and then they all heard it. Harry's voice, raised clear and strong. "_Stupefy_," it came in a whip-sharp crack, and bolts of light began to sizzle within the cloud.

"I can't see," Ginny muttered anxiously. "I can't see a damn thing to hit in that mess, and I'd be afraid it was one of ours even if I could." The cloud was billowing closer, too, Cara noticed anxiously. Was this one of Voldemort's tricks? There was a scream of pain, and another, and they didn't know who.

The cloud was closer, perhaps a few meters away. And finally Cara saw one, black-clad and robbed with furious eyes. She jerked her own wand up, but her classmates had beaten her to it. A half-dozen hexes hit the man who fell backward and disappeared into the cloud.

And then the cloud was on them, and they were engulfed in the mess of dust and blood and screams and spells. Cara found herself gasping for breath, ducking and weaving and shooting off every paralysis spell she could think of. Incapacitate, incapacitate, her mind kept repeating. There was a shriek of pain next to her, and she jerked her head around to see Ginny with blood running down her face but still on her feet, wielding her wand furiously.

And then Cara spun about and came face to face with her own personal devil. One she'd thought was long since drained dry and gone. Bellatrix.

The black haired woman gave a shrill laugh, eyes wild and exultant. "I was looking for you," she cooed. "Draco's little Gryffindor." And Cara was nearly frozen in shock and fear while Bellatrix raised her wand. "_Crucio_!"

Cara came to her senses and ducked but too late and she knew it. Every muscle tensed, anticipating the pain, the sheer pain of the Unforgivable. Instead the bold of wicked light hit her and exploded into a blue glow that engulfed her body. Bellatrix stumbled back a step from the brightness.

"What?" she shrieked, but Cara was already recovering. Thank you, Professor, she thought silently.

"_Petrificus totalis_!" she shouted and made Bellatrix duck. "_Stupefy, stupefy, stupefy_!"

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Harry was afraid. He was afraid because it was all coming too easily. The Death Eaters were falling; slowly, to be sure, and not before he'd seen some of his fellow students stumble and drop themselves. He hoped that no one was dead, he hadn't seen that distinctive shade of green yet fly through the air.

But it was still all too easy and Harry knew it, even as he wielded his wand furiously, sending hex after spell after charm, slashing and cutting and petrifying and squeezing the very breath from some black-robed figures. It was too easy.

And then the pain exploded in his head again, making him stumble to one knee, his left hand coming up to clutch at his forehead. And he heard it. A laugh.

"Potter," the voice rolled triumphantly over the darkness of that infernal dust cloud. "Come here, Potter." He couldn't see, Harry realized with a moment of panic, he couldn't see where anyone else was. He was suddenly standing alone in that swirling dirt and dust, not even Death Eaters about him. All the sounds of the battle had retreated from his ears and he couldn't hear a thing except the throbbing in his head and the smoothly evil voice that raised above the dark.

"No. This is not the time or place," Harry found himself shouting. Like his dream…

"I choose the time and place, Potter," came that voice again, closer. His head seemed like it would explode soon, and Harry had to force himself, weaving, to his feet. He felt an icy chill down his back, much like Dementors and almost without thought swept his left hand about.

"_Expecto Patronem_," he called weakly, and silver light lit out from all sides, briefly lighting the cloud and showing him Neville and Seamus not too far away, locked in a duel with three Death Eaters. And then the light disappeared, as if it went off seeking the cause of that chill.

"So, you've been learning, have you?" came that voice again, darkly amused. "Perhaps this will be more interesting than I thought."

And then Harry's head exploded and he fell to his knees, hands scraping against the ground, rocks cutting into his hands even as he felt nothing but the agony in his mind. His wand clattered away uselessly. No, he silently screamed, trying desperately to get those walls back up, those walls he'd so carefully built the last two years.

_It is futile_, that voice said in his head. _I have your mind. You are mine, mine to take, mine to break, mine to end._ And scenes began to flash before his eyes, and Harry screamed inside his head with the agony of it as Ron and Hermione were tortured, as Ginny was raped as she struggled against black-clothed arms, as Neville, as Cara, as Dean and Seamus one by one dropped to the ground, eyes glassy and blank.

_You see what will come,_ sounded within his head. _You see what I will make be, once I have taken care of you._

And then there was a shout, almost a muffled sound from far away. "_Crucio_!" it came, and there was a jerk within Harry's head and he was suddenly free again, his own person. He blinked away blood that seemed to be dripping down his face and saw someone standing near him, wand trained on another figure, this one tall and gaunt and cold.

Neville, Harry realized. Neville.

And then Voldemort snarled something and shot a hand toward his friend, and Neville stumbled backward. "You think you can curse me, boy?" the Dark Lord snarled. "Your foolishness will not go unrewarded."

"No," Harry tried to shout as he lurched to his feet, he tried to move, but it was too late.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" That bolt of green, so horrifyingly familiar to Harry, shot from Voldemort and Harry staggered as he watched Neville reel backward and crumple to the ground.

"No!" Harry roared, "Neville! NEVILLE!" Something surged inside him, something deep and unfamiliar and began to gather beneath his breastbone. His friend had just tried to save him and was now dead.

And Voldemort laughed. "He is gone, and now, so shall you," said that cold, compelling voice. Red eyes gleamed violently through the dark, as the dust about them seemed to have cleared away. The two of them stood in a circle now, a cleared circle of blackness, the two of them the only thing visible.

Harry was on fire, burning with something, something so powerful he didn't understand it. But he knew how to use it. "I won't let you kill anymore," he shouted. "Not anymore, you pathetic excuse of a wizard!"

Voldemort hissed and raised his wand. "I tire of this," he snarled. "_Avada Kedav…_"

And Harry _pushed_, with all his might. He pushed all that power, that rage, that love that had roared through him with he'd seen Neville attacking Voldemort. White light shot from his hands, forward, wrapping about the two of them. The light blinded him, made him stumble. His head was exploding again, pain wracking his body, his arms, his legs, his chest. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would come through his chest. And through it all he heard two screams, and one of them was his.

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**AN: Bwahahahaha! I do love being evil. I'm going to try to finish this in the next week or two, never fear. Everything will be wrapped up by Christmas. Oh, and the penguins were a raving success, by the way. Thanks for asking. : - )**

**Sugarbaby** – Let all the evil people die? Where's the fun in that?

**Sibling Creature** – Worried for Draco? Heh heh heh… I think Draco's got a chance. Of course, the battle ain't over yet…

**Lirael Goldenhand** – I'm rather fond of Sonora myself… We'll have to see where the next chapter finds her.

**Plateado** – _Another _story? Do you think I have NO life? Lol. Actually, my sister (ferggirl99) and I have considered doing a piece or two together, but nothing yet. We'll see.

**MusicMonkey88** – Hey, my penguins were really cute! And we painted their noses orange… But I'll take that fish stick, thanks. (munching)

**Shahrezad1** – Mid-fight? Hah! That was just getting started, babe. I got news for you, I have not yet begun to fight! (Uh, sorry, wrong war…) And quit hiding those cookies! (Snatching at package, conveniently missing the WWW logo on the side) Hey, why'd I suddenly turn yellow?

**Ariana15** – Aahhhh….

**MrsSakuraPotter** – Me? Cruel? (waving gleefully at pissed-off looking reader who's stuck beyond the veil)

**Ravenfair** – I do love hearing people found me by word of mouth! When people ask me for recommendations to read, that's the first thing I say: look at favorites lists of authors you respect. And frankly, Draco's not a good boy. How could he be? But he ain't evil to me. Oh, and begging is always good. : - )

**Ll4ever, mary-v, Jennifer Cole, The Legendary Centurion, hplovah, Moonglaze, Akugin Ashura, Lady of Masbolle, Maddie, Fancyeyes, Kele Yuy, jimminybug, nebulia** – Why does everyone think I'm evil? I swear, I'm really a very nice person. Really. (hiding crossed fingers) Umm, keep reviewing?


	29. Ravages of War

Chapter 28

White. That was all he could see. Just white, stretching on and on forever. There was no sound, nothing above or beneath him. Just white.

It was oddly comforting, he thought, body and mind at ease, just drifting into that whiteness. Very comforting…

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Ginny was in the middle of ducking a nasty _impedimenta_ and sending her own back at the tall woman in black robes when the world exploded. A wave of light swept through the black cloud they were all fighting in, and the ground rolled beneath her feet. She stumbled and tripped, falling to one knee before she managed to catch herself. Around her, everyone else was having the same problem. And then she heard the screams. Two of them, to be precise, and her heart stopped.

One was rage and fury and everything angry rolled into one shrill sound, the other agony and pain and determination. "Harry," Ginny whispered. "Harry!"

Across from her, her Death Eater was grabbing at her ears, shrieking herself in agony. Around her, others started to do the same.

The screams got louder, the light brighter. Ginny couldn't see, the light was blinding her. She tried to wrench her head around, back away toward the walls of the castle to see if that would ease the blinding sensation. Dimly she saw the gray walls for the stone castle begin to shimmer, a faint iridescence running up and down and growing in intensity.

The castle seemed to shimmer another moment, and then there was another roll in the ground and everyone she could see was knocked to the ground once again, herself included. She landed rather painfully on one arm and cried out herself as she felt the crack. She sucked her breath in through her teeth, trying to breath through the pain; after all, there were Death Eaters all over the place and she didn't want to end up dead.

But the ground kept shaking and she couldn't stand, and the whiteness was still blinding and the screams still deafening. And all Ginny could feel was fear and love and sheer terror that this could be the end of everything she had and everything she still wanted. "Harry!" she tried to call yet again, willing him to come out the winner.

And then it stopped. The light, the sound, the ground. The darkness. It was all still, so still there wasn't a bird or breath of wind to disturb the absolute silence. Slowly, Ginny opened her eyes and tried sitting up, pain shooting through her arm as she did.

She gazed about. The sky was clear. Hogwarts looked untouched. And all around, people lay limply on the ground and she didn't know if they were alive or dead.

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Draco had been through hell before and lived to tell the tale, but this time he wasn't sure he would be so lucky. He'd gone running after Granger and Weasley, full-long into the battle and had eventually found himself face to face with one of his father's old friends. Avery.

It hadn't been pretty, because the older man was sharp and keen and had liked to send spells Draco's way when he was a child. And he'd just been hit with something that had him reeling back in pain when the world exploded in light and shaking ground that those terrible screams.

As everyone around him began to crumble to the ground, knocked off their feet by the rolling earth beneath them, or the pain in their ears or blindness in their eyes, Draco fought to keep blackness from creeping over him. He had to get to Cara, he thought, trying to crawl forward over the still moving ground. Cara, she had to be here somewhere. He'd spotted her right before Avery had started the duel, she had to be nearby.

He couldn't have made it too far, before his hand, the good one, not the one that Granger had fixed up for him, touched the rough material of a school cloak. And then his hand closed over another and everything in him slumped in relief. Cara. And judging by the way she curled into him, still alive and well.

Draco dragged himself to cover her body with his, blackness still creeping up, trying to drown up all that damn white. And when it all stopped, she lay still beneath him. Then her fingers squeezed his, and Draco let himself go. She was all right.

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Severus had been backed against the castle wall, fending off two young Death Eaters at once. Nott's young cousins, he thought they were, and felt no guilt about flinging the foulest curses he could summon at the two. After all, he remembered how they'd liked to sport with the prisoners at Death Eater meetings. He remembered all too well.

Not far away, he could still faintly see Weasley and Granger, back to back, moving steadily farther away toward the center of the dust cloud and where Potter must be buried. Voldemort was here, Severus could feel it in the burning of the old tattoo on his arm. It was agony on his arm, almost to where it was hard to think through. But he gritted his teeth and kept on, determined that he wasn't going to die at the hands of the pansy-faced little twits who wouldn't quit with the curses.

Out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw a flash of blue robes at the steps of the castle. Dumbledore, he thought with relief. They could use the old wizard in this…

That was when it all blew up, the dark, the ground and the air around him. Screams and white light, and the ground rocked beneath his feet. Severus stumbled and fell to his knees, putting one hand against the castle wall to try and catch himself. He hissed in pain instead, jerking his hand back away and involuntarily looking to see why his hand felt like it had been brushed with a hot poker. Behind him, the castle wall was starting to shimmer, rainbows of color shooting over the surface of the stone. The ground shook more, and the dust combined with the white light made it impossible to see farther than his own hand.

And then it all stopped. All was still except for Severus' gasping breaths for long moments. He finally lifted his head to see bodies lying still on the ground. Some heads were beginning to lift, as well.

Forcing himself to the task in front of him, Severus gripped his wand with his good hand and muttered, cords lacing tightly about the two limp black forms before him. Then slowly and rather painfully he got to his feet. He felt old, he thought, gazing about at the black forms and children splayed about.

Granger was starting to sit up, looking dazed, and Severus forced his mind to work. "Tie them all up," he ordered in a croak that carried like a bullhorn through the silence. She looked over at him, and he saw there was blood on her clothes, but she nodded and began to try and stand herself. Weasley was lifting his own head, a low groan coming out of his mouth so Severus turned away, eyes scanning the grounds.

His eyes fell on the limp forms by the steps of the castle. He recognized McGonagall's robes and Dumbledore's. Dumbledore.

Painfully, Severus began to hobble toward them. As he did, he saw Minerva's head move a bit, and her hand lift weakly to her forehead. Dumbledore still lay still, however.

"Are you alright?" Severus said harshly to his fellow Head of Household as he drew near.

McGonagall grimaced. "A splitting headache but nothing damaged," she said in a voice that sounded rusty. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Severus said, lowering himself down next to Dumbledore. "Headmaster. Headmaster!" The old man was still silent and not moving. His fingers shook a bit as he felt for a pulse.

Behind him, there was a shrill cry. The Weasley girl. "Harry!"

Beneath his fingers, a pulse beat strong and steady. Severus felt relief spread through him, and then Dumbledore groaned and lifted his own head. "Headmaster?" Severus said anxiously, leaning down.

There was a faint smile, no sparkle in those eyes. Just sorrow, deep abiding sorrow. "Severus," the old wizard said. "I am alright, my friend."

As the old man began to sit up, McGonagall said again, "What happened?"

"Hogwarts protects its own," Dumbledore said slowly, painfully as they three got to their feet. They turned and gazed forward across the grounds. Bodies littered the grass, some still not moving. "Now the rest is up to us," he said sadly and Severus followed him down the steps.

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Whiteness. It was very soothing, that lack of color. Although he'd always heard that white was all colors combined, and black was the lack of color. So maybe it was the fact that all the color was there that was comforting.

And the silence… after the screams and sizzle of spells, it was so very soothing. He could stay here forever, drifting in this white.

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Sonora dragged herself to the front of the entrance, staring out the doors. She and Pomphrey had a whole hospital set up in the Great Hall, just waiting. When the castle had shook so violently, however, she'd fallen and lost her cane and could not find it. And that scream… it had terrified her to her very bones.

And now she stared out over the bodies splayed out across the grass and had to blink back the tears. So many… some were dead. She could see that in the awkward angle of the head or leg, in the very stillness of the chest. Some were bloody and some were hobbling about, cords wrapping about those dressed in black.

Her eyes still searched anxiously, and then she saw him, tall and strong still as he followed behind Dumbledore and Minerva as they slowly made their way toward the gates and what looked like the center of the mess. Every muscle in her went limp and she nearly fell.

"Oh, thank you," she whispered. "Thank you, Merlin, I still have him." And then she took a deep breath and fumbled for her wand. Now it was time to start healing.

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Ginny didn't know how long it took her, or how many people she'd checked to see if they were still alive, but she finally saw him.

"Harry!" the scream was ripped out of her as she stumbled across the ground, ignoring the groans around her, the other black robes that weren't bound yet. She was completely focused on that limp figure sprawled in a bare circle of where grass used to be.

She fell to her knees, rather painfully, as she jolted that broken arm. "Harry, Harry, no, please," she said frantically, good hand shaking so much she could barely get him turned over.

And then she finally got him shoved over and saw the dirt and blood still oozing from the cut on his face, and how still he was… "Please," she whispered, bending down awkwardly to feel for his heartbeat. "Merlin, please…"

A shadow fell over her as she felt the slow, the too slow thump beneath her fingers. "Miss Weasley," came the Headmaster's voice behind her, a weary and sad question.

"He's still alive," she choked out. Tears were dripping unwanted out of her eyes. "He's still alive!"

"So is he," came Professor McGonagall's sharp voice, filled with fear. Ginny jerked her head up to see the Head of Gryffindor, backing away from the only other body in that circle of burnt away grass. Voldemort.

"It's not over yet, then," came Snape's voice, hoarsely. "I thought only one could survive."

"Only one can," Dumbledore said. And Ginny heard grief in his voice.

She looked back down at Harry. "Come on, Harry," she whispered again. "You've got to. You've just got to."

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He wasn't worried about anything, wasn't thinking at all, in fact. He was just relaxed and soaking in that whiteness.

And then someone seemed to walk out of the whiteness. He stared. "Mum?" his voice seemed hoarse and uneven. "Mum?"

Lily Potter smiled and opened her arms. "Oh, my boy," she said softly and reached for him. He was wrapped in warm arms, a faintly familiar scent filling the air. "Oh, my boy," she said again, against his chest, still holding him.

Another figure came slowly out of the white. "You did good, son," said James Potter, a solid, strong hand dropping down to his shoulder. "You really did."

"We're so proud," his mother murmured, still cradling him close, like she would never let go. He hoped she never did.

Another figure appeared. "Hey, kid," said Sirius Black, looking young and rested and with a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Can't we get past the mushy stuff?" Another hand came to rest on his other shoulder, and he wanted to close his eyes and soak it all in. His family.

"You're not done, you know," his father said softly, hand tightening.

"No," he said, hoarsely, turning his face against his mother's hair. "No more, please, mum, I don't want to. Not any more."

Her fingers smoothed through his hair. "Just like yours, James, it won't stay flat," she said, with a smile in her voice. Then she sighed. "Harry, we can't stay. We're not allowed to. You have people waiting for you, people who need you. People you still need." She slowly loosed her grip until she was simply holding his hand, looking up at him. Mum was shorter than he was, flitted through his mind. He never knew that.

"She's right, you know," Sirius said, mischief gone. He swung his head around to look at him pleadingly. Sirius nodded, looking a bit sad. "It's not over yet, and you've got to finish it."

"No more," he managed again, feeling the grief start to well up inside him. "I can't stand any more."

"Harry," his father said quietly. And he turned and looked at him, misery running under his skin. James Potter's eyes were sad and serious, and they looked straight into his. "This is what you need to do. You would never rest easy, here or there if you didn't, it's not in you." His father's other hand came up to touch his face, then drop to his other shoulder, next to Sirius' hand. "You can do this," James said. "We all believe in you."

He swallowed, knowing he had to and still not wanting to. "So many people died, because of me," he said thickly. "And I couldn't stop it, Dad, I couldn't save them…"

"Hey, Potter," came another voice. It made Harry jerk around and stare at another person. Two, really. Cedric. And Neville.

Neville cocked his head at him, and gave him that slightly shy smile his friend had shared so many times. "You know, it really ISN'T your fault," he said. Cedric nodded quietly, not speaking. "We all had our parts, you see." He nodded at Cedric. "His death is what made everyone realize that play time was over, that it was really beginning. Me," and then Neville laughed, and it was surprisingly light and joyous and happy in the midst of the talk of death. "Me, I guess I found what my place was, huh?"

His friend grinned. "I get to go down in history as something other than the biggest screw-up to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts. Now, I'm the person who saved Harry Potter." Neville grinned and shrugged. "I can take that as my destiny."

"But you're dead," he said, the words spilling out. "That shouldn't have happened, you should be alive."

Neville rolled his eyes. "Come on, Harry, it was war. And we knew it when we walked out the front door of Hogwarts, we might not walk back in. And I swear, if you don't get over this colossal guilt trip you're carrying around, I'll get Peeves to make your life a living hell."

"You can do that?" he wondered, hardly realizing he was speaking aloud.

Cedric grinned. "You'd be surprised," the other boy said.

Neville sobered a bit. "Finish it, Harry," he said, looking more serious. "Finish it, and you _will_ save people. A lot of them."

His mother went on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "We love you," she said quietly.

"Absolutely," came Sirius' voice behind him.

He looked into his father's eyes, behind glasses so like his own. "Go get them," James said softly, and grinned.

And then he was thrown into blackness and whirling pain and agony and screams of misery until he lost where he was. Mum… he thought wildly. Dad. Neville. Sirius. _Ginny_. And then the blackness burst into shards of color and his mind went blank.

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**AN: hee hee hee… don't worry, more to come, very soon!**


	30. Closing the Circle

Chapter 29

Ginny found herself against her brother as they strained to see Harry. He was lying so still on the makeshift hospital bed, down in the bedlam of the Great Hall. Hermione had managed to heal her broken arm, but Ron had to be tended to by Professor Snape. He'd been hit with something that wouldn't let him stop bleeding. Now he had a long, angry scar that ran down the side of his face and would never fade. She didn't think he cared, much, though, considering he was still holding her tightly, back against him to keep her away from where Pomphrey was working over Harry.

"Why is his hair turning white?" Ginny whispered, still fearful all the way to her bones that she was going to loose him. Not yet, not yet, she raged silently. It had taken her so long to get him, she couldn't loose him now.

Hermione was white as a sheet as she sat next to them, hands tightly clasped together. She'd been helping with the healing, the minor stuff, until Snape had roughly ordered her to sit down and drink a rather nasty green potion. Apparently that Death Eater, Dolohov, had found her again. Hermione was lucky she was alive, Snape had snapped, and that she shouldn't waste her chance to stay that way. So now the Head Girl was tense and stiff on the chair, unable to anything but wait.

"He's using all his magic," Hermione said quietly. "Draining it all, down to the core of him. And it's pulling life from every place he can get it."

Ginny couldn't keep back the whimper. "Come on, mate," her brother muttered, his arm tightening.

Cara was sitting on another bed nearby, Draco lying next to her. He'd gotten hit with something that had screwed up the healing job Hermione had done on his left hand, apparently. Professor Snape had been crying when she'd healed him, and had told Cara that he'd be fine, but his hand would be useless. It was shriveled and limp-looking as it laid on the bed.

Seamus had been found face down, and had bled to death before anyone had realized. The Patil sisters had stood shoulder to shoulder and suffered burns on their faces that could not be erased. The two school beauties were still holding each other, tears of relief trickling down their faces. And Neville… His body was lying still and alone, unmarked and next to Harry's bed. He'd saved Harry, Dumbledore had said, looking so old and frail.

On the other side of Harry, being watched carefully by Dumbledore himself, lay the white and twisted body that belonged to the Dark Lord. He was not dead, either. Ginny could barely look that direction, knowing the evilness that had filled that ugly face.

McGonagall was limping about, speaking to members of the Order who'd come straggling in from Hogsmead. They'd all gone to try and help the Aurors, and so many had been hurt or killed… She'd seen Bill, briefly, and had been swept into her big brother's arms for a tight hug before he'd kissed her and gone to find their parents and siblings. Merlin knew if they'd all made it.

So here it was, herself and Ron and Hermione, watching and waiting and not hearing anything else behind them. Harry's black hair, mussed and dirty and bloody from the cut that had been on his temple, was slowly turning white, strand by strand. He wasn't moving, he was barely breathing.

"Please," Ginny whispered, eyes on him.

And then the air seemed to still. Ginny jerked, eyes widening a bit. Ron's arm tightened again. And then a breeze, soft and sweet and warm and totally unsuited to the winter weather that was happening outside blew through the Great Hall, ruffling hair and robes and sheets.

And Ginny saw Harry's chest rise and then fall. And then again. She started to cry.

"Oh, praise Merlin," Madam Pomphrey said, her own voice choked up. "We've got him back." Hermione gave a gasping shudder and like Ginny, began to cry hot tears of relief. She felt Ron shudder behind her, and through the tears saw Dumbledore bow his head. Then the Headmaster reached out and drew the sheet over the face of what used to be the Dark Lord.

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It was quite an effort for Harry to open his eyes. He hurt, in nearly every finger and toe. And he felt like he didn't have the strength to even get his eyes all the way open.

He managed, however, and slowly looked around him. He was in the hospital ward, he realized. The sun was shining weakly in through the windows, and there was snow on the windowsill.

He slowly turned his head, and gazed over the other beds. Empty. He was the only one here. Except for one asleep red-head next to him, curled rather uncomfortably into a small armchair. It looked like she'd been here quite a while, too, if the state of her clothes was anything to go by.

Ginny. Her name echoed through his head as his eyes feasted on her pale face, the firery tumble of hair that tangled over her shoulders. His Ginny.

It took some work and gritting of teeth, but he managed to get one hand to move and reach for her. His fingers touched hers, laying limply on the edge of the chair.

She jerked awake, eyes suddenly wide and wild. And then she stared at him, those brown eyes huge and gorgeous just like he knew they would be. "Harry," she whispered. Then she promptly burst into tears and threw herself at him, and Harry couldn't feel the pain anymore because her arms were around him and his face buried in her hair.

"I love you," he muttered painfully into that thick mass.

"I know," she said tearfully against his should. "Merlin knows, I love you." She lifted her head and cupped his face in her hands. "Welcome back," she said and kissed him. Feeling her lips against his, warm and sweet and spice just like they should be, seemed to make him forget the pain, forget the weakness and he kissed her back with everything he felt.

"Harry!" came from the doorway, a cry of joy that he knew even when he was in the middle of kissing Ginny. She lifted her head and leaned back a bit before he was hit with another hugging, crying girl. This time he buried his face in brown curls, and he was kissed on the cheek. "Oh, Harry, you're back," Hermione was weeping.

Ron's hand came down heavy on his shoulder and squeezed. "Merlin's beard, you had us worried, mate," his best friend's said hoarsely, looking rather teary himself. "We didn't know if you were going to ever wake up."

Harry met Ron's eyes over Hermione's head, Ginny still clinging close as well. His eyes took in the long, thin scar that ran down his best mate's face. "This is where I need to be," he said, voice cracked and weak. Every part of him was so weak.

Hermione finally eased up, and Ginny immediately cuddled in closer, seeming to be unable to let him go for a second. Harry didn't mind, he wanted her there. As close as possible. "What happened?" he forced himself to ask.

"It's over," Hermione said, still wiping away tears. "Voldemort's dead."

Harry closed his eyes and breathed out. _Only one can survive…_ "And the others?" he asked, opening his eyes. This was what he did not want to hear.

Ron sighed. "We were lucky. Not many died," he said, sitting on the end of Harry's bed. "Seamus bled to death. Three fourth-year Hufflepuffs were crushed by falling stone when a Death Eater tried to blast one of the towers apart. A Ravenclaw boy, Hannah Abbot's cousin, you remember him? He took one too many cutting curses and died, too." Ron shook his head. "There were a few more, too. And Professor Sprout, she died. Hagrid tried to get to her, she was being surrounded, but he was too late. Managed to crack a few skulls afterward, though."

"And then there was Neville," Ginny said quietly, face turned against him.

Harry closed his eyes. Neville. "I know," he said quietly. His friend. He opened his eyes again, feeling the grief all the way to his gut. "He saved me, you know."

Hermione nodded, eyes welling up again. She was rather thin, he noted. Not looking too good. "Dumbledore knew what he'd done," she said, lips trembling a bit. "The ministry awarded him the Order of Merlin, First Class. He's a hero, now."

Harry gave a bit of a twisted smile. _Just like he'd said_. "And you, you're all alright?" he asked finally, eyes going to the scar on Ron's face, then Hermione's pale one, and finally to the weary face pressed against his shoulder.

Ron shrugged. "Nothing that won't mend," he said, hands coming to pull Hermione back against him. "Mum and Dad are ok, so're the others," he said, seeming to read Harry's mind. "George lost an eye, that's the worst of it. Fred keeps saying he's going to get an eyepatch, too, so they can still switch places on people."

"Cara broke her wrist, but that's fine now," Hermione said quietly, leaning back into her boyfriend's arms. "Draco…" she hesitated. "He lost his left hand. He was hit with a spell, and it mixed with the healing spell I'd done earlier…"

Harry watched Ron lean down and press a reassuring kiss against Hermione's head, his own feeling heavy and starting to ache again.

"You're tired," Ginny said quietly against his shoulder, where she was lying.

"Yeah," he said wearily. "How long have I been here?" He'd bet it wasn't as long as he'd be stuck in hospital, now that he was awake.

"Two weeks," Ron said. "We've been taking shifts, although it's been hell trying to pry Ginny away." That explained the rumpled clothes and weary face, he thought. "Next time, try not to kill yourself, eh, mate?"

Harry furrowed his brow at Ron, before Ginny leaned up and touched his hair. "You nearly drained your life away, Harry," she said quietly. "You were almost gone."

Hermione's lips quivered again before she set them tightly. "Now you'll be starting a fashion for white hair," she said.

"White?" Harry asked, confused but too tired to pursue it. His body was aching again, and it was hard to stay awake.

"Shh," Ginny said, stroking his hair again, before lying back down. "We're here, we're not leaving. You sleep, we'll tell you more later."

Harry sighed, and his heavy eyes lingered on her face, on Ron's, Hermione's. His family, he thought. He closed his eyes and those other face swam behind his eyelids. All his family.

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**AN: And that, Dearest Reviewers, is The End!**

**My thanks to each and every one of you. Your feedback was what kept me writing, your comments what kept my plot from wandering off into no-man's-land. It's been quite a trip, feeding your obsession and mine. : - )**


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